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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773830">Luck, or Something Like It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagpipes4everyone/pseuds/bagpipes4everyone'>bagpipes4everyone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Titans (Animated Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Bisexual Female Character, Complete, Drama &amp; Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Philosophy, Teen Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:41:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>58,320</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagpipes4everyone/pseuds/bagpipes4everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When bad luck turns a routine mission into a split-second decision, Raven and Jinx find themselves marooned in parts unknown. With only each other to rely on, they set out into an alien landscape in search of a way home, poised, perhaps, to discover much more than that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Robin/Starfire, Jinx/Raven (DCU)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Murphy's Law</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So...hopefully I'm using this right. This is my first time using this site. This is a story I started a few years ago, originally on another site, and only recently came back to finish. It's done now, so I thought I would make an account here as well, for anyone interested in the genre/pairing who might see it here and not there. I'll do my best to figure out the landscape here, and I intend to post the whole thing all at once. Hopefully I don't mess things up too badly. If you check it out, I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"And you're <em>sure</em> this is gonna come off?" Beast Boy worried, sitting on the couch of Titans Tower with his head leaned far over the back.</p><p>Behind him, Raven gently held him steady with one hand while the other worked a black marker on his forehead. "Hold still."</p><p>The changeling whined.</p><p>As Raven finished her work on Beast Boy, the rest of the team, led by Robin, entered the living area.</p><p>"Cyborg thinks he may've found a way to track these things back to the source. How's it coming?" Robin asked.</p><p>"Done," Raven replied.</p><p>Beast Boy sat up. "Wait. Don't you guys need yours?"</p><p>Removing gloves where necessary, Robin, Cyborg, and Starfire each revealed a rune written on the backs of one of their hands.</p><p>"What? Why am <em>I</em> the only one who got it on my forehead?" Beast Boy complained.</p><p>Raven capped her marker. "Because you're the only one who didn't stop me when I tried to put it there?"</p><p>He threw his hands out wide. "That was an <em>option</em>? Since when is that an option?"</p><p>Raven shrugged.</p><p>As Beast Boy simmered, the rest of the group made their way to the couch. Robin proceeded to the front of the room and pointed a small remote at the television.</p><p>"Let's review," he said. Robin clicked the remote, and an overhead map of the city appeared on the screen. "Three months ago, localized incidents of bad luck start springing up all over the city."</p><p>Several blips appeared on the map.</p><p>"Right, but nobody thinks much of it at the time. We didn't even hear about it until a month later," Cyborg added.</p><p>The boy wonder nodded once. "From what we've been able to tell, they started out affecting the physical locomotion of organic creatures inside of a fifteen-foot sphere—people and animals tripping over themselves, turning ankles, et cetera. Then they got bigger." He clicked his remote again, and a group of bigger blips appeared on the map. "And bigger." He clicked a third time, and a series of increasingly wider circles appeared.</p><p>"Once they hit half a city <em>block</em> and started to affect electronics, then we started lookin' into it," Cyborg said.</p><p>Another click, and Jinx's face appeared on the screen.</p><p>Starfire's shoulders fell some. "A conversation with Kid Flash revealed that he and friend Jinx did the ending of their relationship two months before the first recorded incident…"</p><p>"He seemed okay, though," Beast Boy added quickly, rubbing his rune with his thumb. "And he said it wasn't nasty or whatever."</p><p>The assurance, however, did little to lift Starfire's spirits.</p><p>Robin clicked again, and the image of a cylindrical, gray canister appeared. "Analysis of devices found at several of the scenes seems to indicate that someone is making hex grenades."</p><p>"With or without Jinx's cooperation," Cyborg pointed out.</p><p>Robin conceded another nod. "And whoever it is, they're getting better at it. Raven's runes should protect us from the field effects, but if she has switched sides again, they won't do anything against the concussive force of a direct blast from her energy. Now…Cyborg?"</p><p>Cyborg stood up and approached the screen. A breakdown of the inner components of the metal canister appeared as he did. "When Jinx uses her powers, the energy is there and then it's gone. But when that kind of energy gets contained inside of one of these things for a prolonged period, it leaves residual traces in the metal. I did a scan of the city usin' that energy signature, and…" A bright red circle appeared on the map, vibrant in the center and fading toward its outer edges. "Either somebody stood under a ladder and broke a couple million mirrors, or…"</p><p>"Someone's stockpiling these things," Robin said sternly. "This isn't just about a few broken traffic lights or stubbed toes. Imagine it: every electronic subsystem inside of a nuclear facility failing at the same time, airplanes dropping out of the sky, entire hospitals full of equipment that just stops working."</p><p>"And, if she has not done the switching of sides, friend Jinx may be in need of our assistance…" Starfire offered sadly.</p><p>"That too," Robin said more gently, to which Starfire smiled a bit.</p><p>Suddenly, alarms went off as the red circle on the map quickly expanded to encompass the entire city—the tower included. A moment later, the tower went dark.</p><p>"Ah, man!" Cyborg groaned.</p><p>Robin grimaced, gears visibly turning in his mind. "That was no stockpile," he said gravely. "Titans, go!"</p><p>A warm and gentle sun shone proudly down on the residents of Jump city, inviting them out to embrace its golden glow and, indeed, the boundless freedom of life itself. However, on this <em>particular</em> day, only the bravest or most foolhardy of those residents risked so much as leaving their homes; in fact, many had simply found a position—any position, no matter where or how physically awkward or uncomfortable—that they believed to be safe and refused to move at all.</p><p>Outside, birds plunked into windows or walls or floundered, flapping wildly, out of the sky. All manner of electronics, from traffic lights to television to cellular phones, .mp3-players, electronic watches and vehicles malfunctioned in shocking and sometimes dangerous ways. Earthbound animals found it difficult or impossible to take even a single step without injury, and the tiniest of tiny insects struggled in vein to roll over off their backs.</p><p>Cyborg and Robin held aloft by Beast Boy and Starfire respectively, the team arrived and assembled in front of a warehouse.</p><p>Beast Boy morphed back into his human form. "Why is it always a warehouse? Anybody else notice that?" he asked around to the others. "Seriously, we should just start with the docks. Like, every time."</p><p>"Any idea what's inside?" Robin asked.</p><p>Cyborg paused, his red eye momentarily brighter than normal, then shook his head. "Must be some kinda shielding. Whole place is dark. Can't get any readings at all."</p><p>"Raven?" Robin asked.</p><p>Raven, meanwhile, had already crept up to the side of the building; placing her hand near the wall, she attempted to produce a window to the other side but found her efforts thwarted by a thin but volatile magical interference that seemed to channel through the walls like an electrical current—like one, or being carried along one. Floating up to one of the actual windows, she found it one-way only.</p><p>She returned to the group and shook her head to Robin, relaying her findings.</p><p>"Magitech," Robin practically spat the word.</p><p>"I doubt I'll be able to phase or teleport inside, either," Raven said. "Using my powers at all might be a bad idea. I don't know the exact ratio of electrical, magical, and psionic at work here, but if it's reached the point that it's interfering with my powers, who knows what could happen if they bumped heads too hard."</p><p>Beast Boy swallowed nervously at the thought of Raven's powers and bad luck.</p><p>Jaw set, Robin drew his bo staff and made to extend it; it malfunctioned halfway and broke apart when the internal mechanism collapsed. He narrowed his eyes at the warehouse. "Cyborg, are your systems functioning all right?"</p><p>"Yeah. Must be 'cause they're a part of me. Just a sec." Kneeling, Cyborg released a tiny camera drone from his finger; a few steps toward the warehouse and it sparked, smoked, and fizzled out. "So much for that…"</p><p>"No sweat. I got this," Beast Boy said proudly, then morphed into a silverfish and scurried forward. A minute later, he returned and reformed, rubbing his head and a bit singed around the edges. "I, uh… I don't got this. There's like a layer of metal or something, real thin but wired up like an electric fence from the other side. All the walls are covered with it."</p><p>"Okay," Robin said with a hint of finality. "Starfire, left side window. Raven, right side. Cyborg, can you give us a flash-bang when we get inside?"</p><p>Cyborg smirked. "You know it."</p><p>"Good. Once we're in, the rest of us will secure the building. Cyborg, you find whatever is generating this field and shut it down—the right way. Remember: we don't know who we're dealing with, how many there are, <em>or</em> if Jinx is on their side. Don't take any chances. If we have to, we can always pull back and regroup. Whatever's doing this, I doubt if it'll be simple enough for them to just pick up and move."</p><p>"What about me?" Beast Boy asked, pointing a thumb at himself.</p><p>One corner of Robin's mouth curved up into a tiny grin.</p><p>Moments later, the front wall of the warehouse came crashing in, metal and all, under the battering charge of a gargantuan, green dinosaur, which quickly became a tiny worm and plopped to the floor. Cyborg's flash-bang-equivalent washed over the newly renovated interior, followed immediately by the sound of windows being broken.</p><p>Inside, the team assumed combat formation, only to find themselves seemingly alone. A quick look revealed advanced scientific paraphernalia scattered about laboratory tables in the parts of the room still intact, with a litany of high-grade equipment that blinked and bleeped and blooped along the outside. A rack of the hex canisters—filled or empty—sat off to one side, while a floor-to-ceiling machine occupied the center near the far end. An access terminal for the great whatever-it-was faced in their direction, as well as a small port window that glowed with pink light.</p><p>The seconds stretched on as the Titans waited, battle ready; as it sank in that they probably weren't going to be attacked, one by one, they relaxed some. Then, from behind the great machine, a figure stumbled out. Clothed inside of a high-tech hazmat suit, he nevertheless put a hand to the glass dome that protected his head, bracing himself against the machine with the other to stay upright.</p><p>"Chang." Taking advantage of the professor's apparent stupor, Robin strode right up to him, albeit quickly, and took him with both hands.</p><p>"Ugh!" Chang half grunted, half groaned as he was rudely swung around and pinned up against a wall. His eyes blinked several times behind his glasses, then narrowed in an attempt to focus the world around him. "You?" he asked in annoyance and disbelief. "What are you— How did you even <em>get</em> here? You should all be tripping over your own feet by now!"</p><p>"Trade secret. Now, what's going on here? Talk!" Robin ordered.</p><p>"And where is friend Jinx?" Starfire asked.</p><p>Beast Boy looked around one more time. "Not even any robots? Dude, you're slipping."</p><p>"Hold on," Cyborg interjected. "How is any of this even workin'? Whatever field you're generatin' shoulda fried all this tech the second ya turned it on."</p><p>"<em>Oh</em>," Chang put on a sinister smirk. "I guess there <em>was</em> a reason the tin man didn't ask for a brain." He lost some of his good mood. "Wouldn't be much good if it short-circuited itself, would it?"</p><p>Holding out his arm to scan, Cyborg turned in place. "The field doesn't actually take shape for about thirty feet in any direction, like an interstellar warp bubble. Same concept, anyway: small bubble of normal space inside a bigger bubble of screwed up space."</p><p>"Very good," Chang said. "Maybe next he'll tell us how many human cells you need to graft onto an exoskeleton to give it a <em>soul</em>…"</p><p>Cyborg didn't bite. "Nah. Like the man says: trade secret. So, why <em>are</em> ya doin' this?"</p><p>Raven approached the machine.</p><p>Chang laughed. "Why? Why build a xenothium cannon? Or a freeze ray? Why pump enough radiation into a Russian teenager to turn him into a walking reactor? To prove I can!" His sly smile returned. "<em>And</em> if I happen to sell my discoveries, well…a man has to eat. Doesn't he?"</p><p>"I've heard enough," Robin said.</p><p>"As have I," Starfire agreed, floating closer. "You will tell me what you have done with my friend now, please."</p><p>"With who?" Chang asked innocently.</p><p>"Jinx," Robin said.</p><p>Raven touched a hand to the machine.</p><p>"Pink hair, cat eyes, 'bout yea tall if ya count the shoes." Cyborg demonstrated with one hand. "Big fan of stripes. Can't miss her."</p><p>"H— <em>Oh</em>, yes," Chang remembered fondly. "She came to me some time ago. Trouble with her powers, I understand. Very sad, very sad. Wanted me to help her understand them better. Paid very well, poor girl," he recounted.</p><p>Robin narrowed his eyes at the professor. "Where is she?"</p><p>"Here," Raven said.</p><p>All eyes turned to the empath.</p><p>"Come again?" Beast Boy said.</p><p>"She's in here," Raven told them, touching the machine again. Her brow furrowed briefly. "She's not conscious, but she is alive."</p><p>"Alive and unharmed!" Chang proclaimed. "And so you see, all is well. No harm done!"</p><p>Cyborg approached the terminal while Beast Boy did a double take. "Dude, she came to you for <em>help</em>," he said with distain.</p><p>"She did! And I did!" Chang asserted. "Look around! Have you ever seen her powers better controlled? At a higher potential? Think about it." He chuckled. "No more selling crickets in tiny boxes. <em>I've</em> found a way to bottle luck! Well, bad luck. But you get the idea."</p><p>"Bottle a person, is more like it," Cyborg quipped.</p><p>"Why did she not come to <em>us</em> for help?" Starfire asked.</p><p>"Who knows?" Chang asked back. "Still, I had wondered that myself. But, 'Her business is her business,' I told myself. Not my place to pry, you understand. I—"</p><p>Robin silenced him with a rough jerk. "Enough."</p><p>Starfire intensified the glow in her hands and eyes. "You will tell us how to release her and shut down your machine."</p><p>"Certainly," Chang said. "That's simple. Just cut the power, and everything goes back to normal. As easy as flipping a switch. Of course, the shock would probably kill her…"</p><p>"Don't play coy," Robin told him. "You planned to sell this technology. There's got to be a way to shut it down without burning out your only battery."</p><p>"Oh, yes. Of course there is," Chang said. "Or rather, there was."</p><p>"We have a problem," Cyborg said from the terminal.</p><p>"This was only meant to be a test run, you see," Chang went on. "I was working on shutting it down when you blew up my wall and set off that explosion, and I'm afraid something may have been…damaged. Energy is energy, true. But blending magic and technology on this kind of scale is very…delicate."</p><p>"The field is intensifyin'," Cyborg said. "If this thing's right, we've got about five minutes before it hits critical mass."</p><p>"What happens then?" Beast Boy asked.</p><p>"No way to know," Cyborg said. "The stronger the field, the stronger the effect. Concussive shock-wave, maybe. Maybe the field starts to affect biological processes the way it's fryin' electronics—strokes, blood pressure, internal organs. Maybe wide-scale molecular destabilization. The field's probability distortion reaches the quantum level, everybody's ions and electrons decide to shift, and molecular <em>bonds</em> break down."</p><p>"Tsk, tsk." Chang shook his head sadly. "Bad luck, wouldn't you say? Of course, everyone in this room will be fine, but everyone else…"</p><p>"How do we stop it?" Robin pressed Chang.</p><p>"I already told you," he replied.</p><p>"Without killing her," Robin said.</p><p>"Oh, what do you care? She's a criminal," Chang dismissed the concern. "She broke me out of prison, loosed me on the world. It's her life or… Oh, I forget. What's the population of Jump City these days?"</p><p>"Jinx is our friend," Starfire insisted, adamant.</p><p>"Funny, when I have a problem, I usually come to <em>my</em> friends for help," Chang replied.</p><p>"How?!" Robin barked.</p><p>"I don't know," Chang admitted finally, as though it should have been obvious already. "I didn't plan for this. If it were me, I'd just cut the power. We're in uncharted waters, here. But I'd say you have, oh…four minutes to figure it out?"</p><p>Robin's eyes darted to his teammate. "Cyborg?"</p><p>"I dunno, man," the metal man replied uncertainly. "Maybe I could… No. What if I…? Okay, what if I boost the power draw and cycle the excess energy through the surge reservoir? Burn off the extra juice without actually crankin' up the machine, but draw enough to brown out the power substation for this area."</p><p>"Isn't that the same as cutting the power?" Beast Boy asked.</p><p>Cyborg shook his head. "Brown out, not black out. Substation's gonna have a backup with substantial load reduction. Machine gets less power, trips a hard flag, initiates power-down fail-safe procedure on its own."</p><p>"That could work," Chang said. "Of course, if it doesn't, you could still kill her."</p><p>Cyborg looked back at Robin. "Best I've got, man. Maybe I could figure out somethin' better if I had more time, but…"</p><p>After a moment to consider and a shared look between his comrades, Robin turned again to Cyborg. "Do it."</p><p>Cyborg went to work.</p><p>"Calm under pressure, logical, decisive," Chang observed with praise. "Your mentor must be so proud."</p><p>Robin growled under his breath. "Ask him yourself on your way to Arkham. I'll handle the reservation."</p><p>"Oh, man…" Beast Boy craned his neck up at the towering machine.</p><p>The light faded from Starfire's hands and eyes, and she floated up to the porthole window, peering heart-brokenly inside but unable to see beyond the wall of pink light. Slowly, she drifted back to stand beside Robin, one hand clasped over her chest.</p><p>"Initiatin' power draw…now." Cyborg entered one more command into the terminal, and the hum permeating the room grew louder. The others stood in silence as he monitored the procedure.</p><p>Red warning lights spun to life on the sides of the machine; a siren blared.</p><p>"What's going on?" Robin asked anxiously.</p><p>Cyborg ground his teeth. "Gimme a <em>minute</em>, gimme a <em>minute</em>, gimme a—" His eye widened.</p><p>"<em>What</em>?" Robin asked again, more forcefully.</p><p>Cyborg typed frantically. "Somethin' damaged the reservoir subroutine. It's drawin' but it's not cyclin'."</p><p>"What's that mean?" Beast Boy asked, a bit more fearfully than perhaps he had intended.</p><p>Chang blanched. "It means the power isn't being cycled off. It's going into the machine." For the first time, he began struggling against Robin's grip. "We need to go! We need to get <em>out</em> of here!"</p><p>"I thought everyone in this room was safe?" Robin asked him.</p><p>"No!" Chang cried. "Well, yes! When the <em>field</em> was going critical! The <em>machine</em> is going critical!"</p><p>"Which means wh—"</p><p>"Boom…" Cyborg stepped back from the terminal, eyes locked on the machine but unable to do anything more.</p><p>"Cut the power!" Robin ordered.</p><p>"We can't!" Chang yelled. "It's too late for that! We're already <em>past</em> the event horizon! We have to—"</p><p>"No time…" Cyborg said quietly.</p><p>Chang took a slow, gasping breath.</p><p>Resolved to at least save who she could, Starfire burst forward into flight, by all accounts ready to rip loose the great machine and fly with it as far and as fast as she could before it detonated; before she could reach it, a low, loud warning buzzed, indicating in no uncertain terms that the penultimate moment had arrived and drowning out the sound of Raven's familiar mantra.</p><p>As the group recoiled in futile preparation, a black barrier enclosed the machine. It warped and flexed violently under the force of the resulting blast, muffling the cataclysmic <em>crack</em> on the other side into an awful, rumbling boom. Raven herself fell to her knees with the effort of holding the barrier in place. Those nearest to her in the last seconds might later have recalled a groaning sound that reached its crescendo in a strained cry, just before the barrier gave out, releasing the last vestiges of the explosion that blew out the warehouse like a firework set off inside a tin can.</p><p>In the end, a detonation that would surely have taken most of the city with it had instead been reduced to one comparatively small. As the Titans picked themselves up and the dust settled and the smoke cleared, Robin was the first to his feet.</p><p>He coughed several times, eyes darting hurriedly from one spot to another in their search. "Raven?" he called out, and then again, louder, "Raven!"</p><p>But the center of the space was empty. Neither Raven, nor Jinx, nor any discernible remains of Professor Chang's machine were anywhere to be found.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Survival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Consciousness.</p><p>In a moment, Raven became aware. Eyes still shut, she tensed at an oppressive wind that blew over her, steady and chilled. Sitting up and shielding her face from the wind with one arm as best she could, she opened her eyes.</p><p>Black.</p><p>Slowly, she opened and closed her eyelids a few more times to be sure. As panic began to worm its way into her thoughts, a spark caught her attention from the periphery of her vision. Somewhat relieved, she oriented herself in the direction the spark had been; at least she wasn't blind.</p><p>Her next surprise came when she attempted to erect a shield for herself from the wind: her powers wouldn't respond. Upon closer inspection, she found that, indeed, she couldn't manifest any of her abilities, which might have worried her more if she hadn't been able to feel her power at all. As it was, she could feel it—buried inside, present but unresponsive.</p><p>A byproduct of her interaction with the magitech generator, or it's detonation? Maybe. Temporary exhaustion. Clearly, wherever she was, she was not where she had been. She had been teleported, most likely a result of her powers mingling with either the hex field, the explosion, or some combination of the two. Depending on how <em>far</em> she had been teleported, it wasn't inconceivable to think that her soul self may have been overexerted. It would correct itself in time, which was reassuring but did little to aid her situation. An attempt to call for help on her communicator yielded no signal.</p><p>Another spark.</p><p>This time, Raven saw it illuminate something metallic. On all fours, wind rushing in her ears and flapping against her cloak, she proceeded in that direction. Hard, brittle ground cracked or crumbled sometimes beneath her hands and knees, but she was soon thankful she had opted for the slower, more methodical approach. It wasn't long before she encountered a debris field, littered with metal parts and shrapnel that she carefully moved aside or maneuvered around.</p><p>A third spark told her when she had reached the source, which she found to be a familiar, body-sized capsule. She had sensed it earlier when she had erected the barrier around the machine and, deciding Jinx was probably inside, had devoted all the power she could spare to protecting <em>it</em> after containing the explosion. Even so, when she was honest with herself, she hadn't really expected the thing to survive intact. Only when she touched it physically did she realize how reinforced it actually was, obviously designed to protect something important in the event of catastrophic failure—which it had, apparently, and admirably well.</p><p>Feeling around the container until she had a workable mental image, she disengaged several locking mechanisms, forced to shut her eyes briefly at the light inside when she opened its hatch. Four slender, battery-powered L.E.D. lights illuminated the inside: nothing spectacular, but blinding to Raven's unaccustomed eyes.</p><p>The lights illuminated the surrounding terrain for a small distance, revealing the black, brittle earth and the wreckage. When her eyes adjusted, Raven recoiled slightly in shock at what <em>else</em> they illuminated. Channeling what little she could of her powers, she passed her hand near the capsule's occupant slowly from bottom to top, concentrating and checking for damage. When she was satisfied, she set to work removing Jinx from the machine. To her even greater surprise, Jinx began to stir as she lifted her out.</p><p>Placed in a sitting position with her back to the capsule, Jinx held her head and seethed, gritting her teeth.</p><p>Opting to stand, Raven watched her. "Are you…okay?"</p><p>"Ugh…" she groaned. "Anybody get the number on that bus…?"</p><p>"Explosion," Raven stated flatly.</p><p>Jinx peeked one eye open, still not even 'with it' enough to question her surroundings. "What?"</p><p>"No bus. Explosion." Raven recounted the recent exploits of Professor Chang and the result of their confrontation. Afterward, she pointed to the capsule. "You were in there. You're…well, lucky to be in one piece," she said, for lack of a better way to phrase it.</p><p>"Right…"</p><p>Beneath her hood, an eyebrow raised. "Why didn't you come to us? We could've helped you."</p><p>"Yeah, 'cuz ya totally know that," Jinx muttered.</p><p>"We would've tried," Raven told her.</p><p>"I thought I could handle it," Jinx said.</p><p>"You thought <em>Chang</em> could handle it," Raven corrected her.</p><p>"I thought I could handle <em>him</em>," she shot back.</p><p>Some seconds passed in silence between them.</p><p>Afterward, Raven asked curiously, "Why Chang? The Titans, the League—not like you didn't have options."</p><p>Slowly gaining coherence, Jinx finally managed to stand up. "Can we talk about my life story later?" She looked around. "Where are we?"</p><p>Raven joined her in taking in what little of the blight they could see. "I don't know."</p><p>"Okay, so we call for help." Jinx whipped out her communicator.</p><p>"No signal," Raven said.</p><p>Upon trying it herself, Jinx found her words accurate. "So…what? We need to find a cell tower?"</p><p>"We need to find a planet," Raven told her.</p><p>Jinx furrowed her brow. "What?"</p><p>"A planet in range," Raven explained. "Wherever we are, it isn't Earth."</p><p>"What?!" Jinx exclaimed.</p><p>"Look on the bright side," Raven suggested.</p><p>"What <em>bright</em> side?!"</p><p>Raven held her arms out in a wide gesture, her face still its usual bland. "Air."</p><p>Rather than reply, Jinx simply turned in place, perhaps more quickly sometimes than was called for, eyes glancing to and fro; her chest rose and fell as her breaths came deeper and more quickly.</p><p>"You're panicking," Raven observed.</p><p>No response.</p><p>"Stop panicking," Raven said.</p><p>"So I'm panicking!" Jinx snapped, whirling to face her. "Some of us have never been on another <em>planet</em> before!"</p><p>"I have."</p><p>The assurance subdued Jinx some, if only that. "So where are we?"</p><p>"I already told you: I don't know."</p><p>"How do we get back?"</p><p>"I don't know," Raven repeated.</p><p>"Well, what <em>do</em> ya know?!" Jinx shouted.</p><p>Raven waited a few moments, as if to point out that Jinx was panicking again, then replied, "Somehow, your powers interacting with mine caused a teleport. That's how we got here. Wherever we are, it's far enough away that bringing us here taxed my powers almost to the point of exhaustion."</p><p>"You can't get us back," Jinx realized, panic losing ground to fear.</p><p>"Not yet," Raven told her calmly. "Over time, my powers will recharge. When they do, I can work on figuring something out. Until then, we can either stand here, or we can try to find some kind of civilization."</p><p>Jinx tilted her head at the absurdity of the idea. "Civilization? We could be <em>anywhere</em>."</p><p>Raven, meanwhile, began disconnecting the L.E.D.s inside the capsule. "Yes, but we're <em>probably</em> somewhere I've been before, or at least a planet I've visited. The odds of being teleported, at random, to a habitable planet are astronomically low. It's much more likely that we're somewhere with which I already have a connection."</p><p>As Jinx watched, Raven held one of the amputated lights aloft; it flickered a few times before lighting in her hand. "I thought your powers didn't work."</p><p>"I can't manifest them, but I can channel them a little. What about yours?" Raven asked.</p><p>Jinx held out a hand, but nothing happened.</p><p>"Perfect," Raven commented dryly. "Here." She handed Jinx two of the four lights, keeping the other two for herself. "I can keep them lit as long as we aren't too far apart."</p><p>Jinx examined one of the L.E.D.s idly, while Raven closed the capsule. "Ya…go to other planets a lot, or…?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"So…the list is pretty small, then," Jinx concluded, searching for hope.</p><p>"Theoretically." Raven moved her light wands about, getting a better look at their surroundings; the light didn't travel far and revealed, still, only the debris field and flat ground, dry and black.</p><p>Jinx did the same. She narrowed her eyes, peering about. "What <em>is</em> this place?" she asked in disgust. "And what's wrong with those trees?"</p><p>Raven switched her gaze to her companion, but Jinx merely tapped a finger next to one feline eye with a smirk.</p><p>"Good in the dark," she said.</p><p>Together, they made their way to the trees Jinx had mentioned: a sparse patch of four crooked, gnarly-looking florae that gave the impression they might once have, indeed, been trees.</p><p>Securing one of her lights under her belt, Raven set the other on the ground nearby and examined the trees more closely, somewhat to Jinx's chagrin.</p><p>"Uh…" Jinx protest feebly. "Ya…sure you're not gonna catch somethin'…?"</p><p>"These have been dead for a <em>very</em> long time," Raven assured her. Taking one respectably straight branch in hand, she broke it off. She held it beside her, gaging its size. Only afterward did she notice Jinx still staring. "We're going to be walking. You should take one."</p><p>Removing her shoulder adornment, Jinx tied it around her waist and slid the lights securely into it. She then approached the tree. "Got a lotta…" she grunted, pulling once on the branch, then again and stumbled backward a step when it finally cracked free, "outdoors experience?"</p><p>"Some. You?" Raven tapped her walking stick against the ground a few times to test its durability.</p><p>Jinx shrugged. "Wilderness Survival at the academy. Basic stuff," she said offhandedly.</p><p>Raven gave Jinx her full attention. "Such as?"</p><p>Jinx thought back, trying hard to remember anything useful from the old H.I.V.E. class. "Well, what we really want is some kinda camp. Somethin' stable we can explore around and, y'know, come back to." She looked up at the trees. "Found wood. So that's fire, assumin' we can start one."</p><p>"I can," Raven said.</p><p>"Don't know when we'll find it again, though," Jinx considered aloud. "No guarantee we'll be able to stay around here. Not without food and water."</p><p>Seemingly in agreement, Raven unfastened her cloak and spread it out on the ground, using her stick and some of the crumbling ground to hold it down in the wind. She began breaking off more branches in smaller pieces and piling them onto it. Jinx assisted, and when it was full, Raven folded the cloak over and fashioned it into a makeshift pack, which she slung over a shoulder.</p><p>Raven adjusted the pack slightly, making it as comfortable as she could and at least avoiding any of the branches jabbing her directly in the back. "See anything?" she asked Jinx, who turned in a circle, peering out.</p><p>"Dark." Jinx groused. "Lots and lots of dark."</p><p>First, Raven returned to the wreckage to scavenge a few metal pieces that, while they might not transport water for long distances, might at least be used to boil anything they did find. Then, no better plan, she set out in a direction seemingly chosen at random. Behind them, their footprints crunched into the brittle soil with every step, leaving a catalogue of their progress. Ten minutes or so into their silent trek, Jinx shivered at a particularly chilly gust.</p><p>"Ugh," she complained, then caught sight of Raven's exposed legs. "How are you not <em>freezing</em>?"</p><p>"Meditation," Raven replied.</p><p>"Bubble bath," Jinx added a few seconds later.</p><p>Raven paused, giving her companion a look.</p><p>Jinx put on an apologetic face and a snarky smirk. "Oh, were we not sayin' random things we'd rather be doin'?"</p><p>Raven rolled her eyes and resumed walking. "I meditate. A lot. It helps me regulate my temperature."</p><p>"So you're, like, one of those monks who sits in the snow in a toga or whatever?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Silence settled in again, until nearly an hour later when Raven, a few steps ahead, abruptly stopped moving.</p><p>"What?" Jinx asked her.</p><p>Raven set down the pack of firewood, for the time being. "You tell me."</p><p>Jinx shook her head lightly at the remark, repeating her question without actually repeating it.</p><p>"I'm an empath."</p><p>"And?" Jinx asked back.</p><p>"Whatever's going on in your head is distracting. If you have something to say, say it," Raven told her.</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>Raven waited.</p><p>Jinx's face hardened briefly in annoyance. She opened her mouth for a retort, maybe even a nasty one, but stopped; instead, her eyes turned downcast as Raven felt her ire drain away. "I'm sorry," she said.</p><p>Still, Raven waited.</p><p>Jinx's brow knit, a frown forming as her face contorted more and more to mirror the distress beneath her usual demeanor. "It's my fault," she said, unable to meet Raven's unwavering, unfeeling gaze. "I didn't— I mean, I—" Her shoulders fell. Her eyes winced. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"I know," Raven stated.</p><p>Jinx breathed a slow, heavy breath: in, and out.</p><p>"Feel better?" Raven asked.</p><p>"Not really," Jinx admitted.</p><p>"Good," Raven said simply, taking up the pack once again.</p><p>Jinx quirked her head. "How's <em>that</em> supposed to make me feel better?"</p><p>"It isn't," Raven replied. "You endangered peoples' lives. Feeling bad about it is a good thing. If you had said, 'Yes,' I'd be worried. You made a mistake. What's done is done. All we can do now is fix it."</p><p>"You hope," Jinx pointed out.</p><p>"We're going to fix it," Raven promised, as much to herself as to her partner. "Either we find civilization, or I get my powers back and find us a way home, or the others find a way to find <em>us</em>."</p><p>Curious, Jinx decided to probe. "You're not gonna ask?"</p><p>"Ask what?"</p><p>"Why I went to Chang instead of you guys."</p><p>"I already did," Raven said, resuming course.</p><p>"I never answered," Jinx pointed out. "Well, not really. If it were Bird Boy stuck here with me, we wouldn't have gotten three feet before he gave me one of those <em>glares</em>."</p><p>"I asked," Raven repeated herself simply. "If you want to talk, I'll listen. But I'm not a dentist. You aren't wrong, though. You don't have to answer to me, but when we get back, you <em>will</em> have to answer to Robin."</p><p>Nothing more said, they went back on their way, Raven confident that their conversation had done something, at least, to quell the turbulence at work in Jinx's mind.</p><p>Hours later, after twice switching off who got to carry the pack of firewood, they had encountered no more trees, or creatures, or bodies of water and had seen no indications of any. Had it not been for their trail of footprints, they would have had no indicator at all that they had even kept heading in the same direction across the seemingly endless expanse.</p><p>Even still, the lack of differentiation in the landscape wormed its way into the minds of both women, eroding all sense of progress in their journey no matter how far they wandered through the wind and dark. That, too—the dark—affected both a certain sense of claustrophobia and one of paranoia, as though at any moment some inconceivable, alien thing lay lurking and unseen, just beyond the light. A host of unknown horrors swam around them on every side, two lost minnows in a sea of inky black. Neither would have been surprised at all to have their lights illuminate some great body part or monstrous eye, rolling over and blinking in passing interest at the out-of-place pair before darting back off into the abyss.</p><p>As it was, they encountered no such thing, or anything at all. They did, however, come upon a mountainside. Swapping the pack one more time, they trailed the mountainside in one direction, until they found a cleft that opened into a larger cavern. Inside, they found both shelter from the wind and a trickle of water that dripped down into a tiny pool.</p><p>"Home, <em>sweet</em> home!" Jinx said with exhausted enthusiasm, dropping the pack of firewood like a sack of potatoes; it fell to the floor with a woody clatter.</p><p>Raven dug out some of her scavenged scrap metal and placed it under the trickle to collect. She turned back to find that Jinx had wasted no time in setting up a rudimentary fire pit, already using another metal scrap to scrape shavings from one of the branches for tinder. Although she had not complained since the start of their trip, Raven noticed Jinx's hands tremble as she worked.</p><p>Jinx sniffled in the cold, absorbed in her task and unaware of, or unconcerned with, Raven's observation.</p><p>Although they had yet to find food, for the first time since they had woken up, Raven found herself without the need to worry about her immediate surroundings. And as she allowed herself to focus on other things: namely, the forced hurry with which Jinx's hands scraped, the desperation present in her concentration, and the fear in her eyes. Jinx would not allow herself to feel it—to feel it, even a little, would mean to be utterly overcome by it—but she was afraid. It didn't take an empath to see that. Whatever dam she had built around those fears in order to maintain some semblance of her usual demeanor, Jinx was one small hole away from crumbling.</p><p>As Raven looked on, she considered the suddenness of the situation, how, from Jinx's point of view, she had blacked out or gone to sleep one moment and woken up the next on an unfamiliar planet, for the first time, with no apparent means of getting back. Pragmatic rationality and memories of the Titans' previous miracles and conquests over the odds held Raven's own worries at bay, but a small-time villain-turned-hero like Jinx was hopelessly beyond her ken. And she knew it, whether or not she let herself acknowledge it.</p><p>One of Jinx's hands missed the mark in its numbness, and she snapped the stick she had been scraping. Before she could get frustrated, Raven knelt next to her and held the socket end of one light to the tinder; a tiny spark lit it, and Jinx stoked it eagerly but carefully until the larger stick teepee caught.</p><p>A wide grin spread across Jinx's face, as though just the simple comfort of warmth had done wonders for her disposition. She balled her fingers into fists and stretched them out a few times, getting the blood flowing as she warmed them close to the fire.</p><p>"<em>Hah</em>…" she sighed with pleasure, rubbing her hands together briskly. "Not freezin' tonight!"</p><p>Wordlessly, Raven retrieved her container of water, now nearly full. She placed it by the fire in such a way as to allow it to boil. They sat quietly for a while in the flickering glow, listening to the fire crackle and burn.</p><p>At one point, Jinx stretched. "How're your powers?" she asked.</p><p>Raven mulled over the question and, even more, exactly how to quantify an answer. "It's…going to take time," she said finally. "I can feel them, but I still can't call them out. Yours?"</p><p>"Same, I guess," Jinx said, then had another thought. "Y'know, I always wondered. <em>About</em> your powers. Meta, or just a sorceress? Human."</p><p>"Neither," Raven replied. She gave a mental sigh at what would come next. It <em>always</em> came next.</p><p>Jinx gave her a stupid look. "How's that work?"</p><p>"I'm half human," Raven told her, hoping Jinx would drop it there but knowing that, like anyone else, she wouldn't.</p><p>A casual, "Huh," was Jinx's only response.</p><p>At that, Raven looked up from the fire to Jinx. "Aren't you going to ask? Everyone does," she said with a marked lack of enthusiasm.</p><p>Jinx glanced up with a smile. "Not a dentist." She winked.</p><p>To even her own surprise, Raven smiled back, unsure whether Jinx had noticed. Their conversation tapered off after that, and although Jinx had broken the mold in leaving Raven's parentage alone, Raven found herself unable to do the same. Perhaps she had become so accustomed to that particular line of questions and answers that the need to continue had become almost a compulsion. Perhaps some part of her believed that because of their situation, or because of her courtesy, Jinx deserved to hear. Whatever the case, it fluttered about on the tip of Raven's tongue until she finally set it loose.</p><p>"My mother is human," Raven said, by that point thoroughly out of left field.</p><p>Jinx looked up out of curiosity.</p><p>Raven stared at the fire. "My father…was a monster. A demon."</p><p>Jinx's brow rose in interest. "Was," she said.</p><p>Raven gave a single, solemn nod.</p><p>"You…?" Jinx inferred aloud.</p><p>Raven's eyes moved up from the fire and met her companion's.</p><p>"Heavy…" Jinx said in awe.</p><p>"Heavy," Raven agreed.</p><p>Some time passed, and Raven divided up the boiled water after it had been allowed to cool.</p><p>"My turn, I guess," Jinx spoke up eventually. "It…wasn't like there was a problem or anything. I'm not unstable. I just wanted to get better. And it's not like I didn't <em>think</em> about comin' to you guys. I mean, okay. My first thought's the League, right? They've got all <em>kinds</em> of magic stuff goin' on. But I just… I don't know. I just <em>couldn't</em>, y'know? I just switched sides. I just joined the team, for cryin' out loud. How's it gonna look if the first thing I do is go beggin' for help?"</p><p>"Smart," Raven said in answer. "But I understand pride. You didn't want to look weak."</p><p>"Right!" Jinx affirmed, practically ecstatic that Raven got it. "At the academy, I was top of the class. On my old team, I was the one in charge."</p><p>"Looking weak is one thing, but you talk as though you had something to prove," Raven said.</p><p>"Didn't I?" Jinx pressed.</p><p>"You had already helped save the world," Raven told her. "What else could you have possibly had to prove, and to whom?"</p><p>Jinx said nothing, but crinkled her lips in annoyance and stared at the empath across the fire, as if to ask if she really had to say it.</p><p>After a moment of thought, it was clear when realization dawned on Raven. "Me?"</p><p>"Duh!" Jinx exclaimed. "What, ya thought it was <em>coincidence</em> I always singled you out when we went at it?"</p><p>"Why?" Raven asked in utter confusion.</p><p>"Uh, hello! Magic? Not only were ya the only one to use it, ya were <em>crazy</em> friggin' good at it! You're seriously gonna sit there and tell me ya never noticed?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven suddenly got a bit sheepish. "Well, I…thought for strategic counter…"</p><p>Jinx sighed a dismal and sarcastic sigh. "Nothin' sadder than a one-sided rivalry…"</p><p>"So you're saying that this entire situation—all of it—is because you thought you had something to prove. To me," Raven clarified.</p><p>Jinx lost some of her fervor, embarrassed or ashamed, and switched her gaze back to the fire.</p><p>"That's stupid," Raven said.</p><p>Jinx looked up in confusion. "Say what?"</p><p>"You're extremely adept at what you do," Raven told her. "Metahuman or not, your degree of magical proficiency was always impressive. Comparing yourself to me isn't even really fair. My heritage gives me access to a wealth of power the likes of which <em>most</em> metahumans will never see. My struggle is controlling it, learning to harness what's already there, safely, in greater and greater amounts. To have started from zero and sculpted yourself, by the same age, to the point where you could stand on an even field with any amount of that power, you ought to be proud."</p><p>Jinx blushed, hidden by the fire. "Thanks," she said. "I mean it. Thank you."</p><p>"Don't thank me. I only give praise where it's deserved. Ask Beast Boy," Raven said.</p><p>Jinx giggled.</p><p>"Speaking of annoying male companions, do you mind if…I ask a question?" Raven inquired.</p><p>Jinx's Cheshire grin returned in full form. "Oh, lookit <em>you</em>!" she praised. "Gettin' into the real girl talk! Sure, go ahead."</p><p>"What…did happen?" Raven asked. "Between you and Kid Flash. You don't have to answer. Normally I wouldn't even ask, but…I am curious. He won't talk about it, but not because it upsets him. I can feel that it doesn't. It feels almost like…" She considered. "Respect. Or trust of some kind, as though talking about it would be a betrayal. I can only assume to you."</p><p>"Wow, you're good," Jinx complimented her. "It's nice to hear that, though. He's a ladies' man, sure, but he was always a good guy."</p><p>"Like I said, you don't have to answer," Raven said.</p><p>"No, it's fine," Jinx assured her. "He and I always got along great, no big problems or whatever. Wasn't anything either one of us did, I just…" She paused with a nervous laugh. "You, uh…sure ya wanna talk about this?"</p><p>"Not if you don't," Raven said.</p><p>"It's not that. I just…don't wanna embarrass ya," Jinx explained.</p><p>"I don't do embarrassment," Raven replied.</p><p>"Okay…" Jinx gave up. "When the uniforms came off, I just… I don't know… I…wasn't into it, y'know?"</p><p>Raven's eyes got a little wider, though her tone betrayed nothing. "No."</p><p>Jinx laughed again. "No. Guess not, huh? It wasn't his fault or anything, nothin' he did or didn't do. I think maybe I just…play for the other team."</p><p>As the surprise over the course their conversation had taken wore off, Raven returned to her usual composure. "I assume you're not talking about heroes and villains."</p><p>"No," Jinx said.</p><p>"Well, that certainly makes things make more sense," Raven concluded. "If you haven't told anyone, then his feelings concerning going into detail are understandable."</p><p>"Yeah, he's a good guy," Jinx said. "Thanks, by the way. For tellin' me about your…y'know. Kinda makes me feel better about the whole hero thing, knowin' I'm not the only tiger tryin' to change stripes."</p><p>Raven smiled softly. "Any time."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Mountains of Madness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When they decided to turn in for the night, Raven moved away from the fire in one direction while Jinx moved a little closer to it. They had talked about having a watch rotation but decided it unnecessary given that they hadn't seen a single living thing besides themselves since their arrival. The fire had done a commendable job heating up the interior of the small cavern, and so Raven actually found it necessary to find the edge of its warmth near the back if she wanted to sleep comfortably. As comfortably as she could on the naked ground, anyway.</p><p>She settled in and lay down facing the fire, Jinx and, behind them, the corridor leading to the exit. As she waited for sleep to find her in the unfamiliar place, she saw her thoughts wander back to their earlier conversation. Not over any great or important matter, mind. More out of simple curiosity.</p><p>Since her arrival and the subsequent formation of the Titans, she had watched many of her friends and new acquaintances grow, mature, and begin embracing certain hallmarks of that maturity. Namely, in this case, forming romantic relationships, Robin and Starfire being by far the most pronounced. But there were others: Cyborg and Bumblebee, albeit unofficially as of yet. Beast Boy and Terra, regardless of how it had ended. And until recently, Kid Flash and Jinx. Raven was certain there were more out there, as well, no doubt developing between other, less familiar and less frequently visited members of their circle.</p><p>When she considered the utter lack of time she had devoted to exploring that set of feelings, it became almost a point of shame for the empath. Since being more or less set free by her father's defeat, she had promised herself to begin exploring her emotions in earnest. Of course, she was who she was. A lifetime of suppression had shaped her personality into the one everyone knew, and exploring her newly available emotions would not change that. At least, not at the start. Not at the flip of a switch.</p><p>Over time, perhaps, if she chose it. Certain avatars of her other selves inside Nevermore might even disappear completely if she became familiar enough with what they represented. But the act of truly absorbing an emotion was, in reality, a long and tedious process, done just a little day by day by allowing herself to feel it. It would take a great deal of time to absorb them all, if she even chose to do so. The truth was that it made her uncomfortable.</p><p>For as much as she wished no longer to be divided, the thought of actually doing so made her exceedingly uncomfortable. There was no spell, no ritual or incantation to merge her permanently with the parts of herself that had been sundered, no. It would be simple actions taken every day: doing things, saying things, changing her way of <em>thinking</em>, and while the thought may have been romanticized when it was impossible, like some forbidden fruit, the reality of it now that it <em>was</em> possible made her reconsider.</p><p>She liked who she was. Perhaps the greatest revelation to come of her friendship with the other Titans and her ousting of her father was that one: whatever she was, she <em>liked</em> who she was, had been accustomed to the way her mind worked and, when she was honest with herself, found peace in it.</p><p>She had seen a news report once, some time ago, regarding a new surgical implant that offered to give sight to certain blind individuals. Even those blind from birth, if they fell under the specific condition it could treat. Most hailed it as a miracle, but those who <em>had</em> been blind from birth, interviewed by the program, while they had praised it, had also indicated that they would not prefer it. Blindness was the world they knew, the world they understood. To have sight thrust upon them now would have been not only terrifying, but also would have required them to relearn <em>everything</em> about the world.</p><p>Blindness was the world she knew.</p><p>Still, she had resolved at least to explore her newly available emotions. Many she had: allowing herself to tell or to chuckle at jokes, or to smile more often than she had previously, or to be perhaps a little lazier now and then or a bit ruder than she normally would have been, if the mood struck her. But there were still several emotions into which she had not delved.</p><p>Chief among them, of course, was Rage—for obvious reasons. But beyond that were others she continued to ignore for one reason or another. They were too inconvenient, or they were too alien, or they made her feel uncomfortably exposed. Those associated with romance tended to fall into any or all of the aforementioned categories.</p><p>Still, she had often pondered over them since Robin and Starfire had embraced their relationship in earnest. For the larger part of her life, such things had been pointless to consider; the world would end before they would ever matter. Those feelings had received so little thought that considering them now continued to feel not unlike trying to conceive of the non-Euclidian.</p><p>And so she avoided them, knowing entirely well that doing so would only perpetuate the problem, if indeed it was a problem at all.</p><p>Cowardice, she had concluded. But even so, she could justify that as well: after all, cowardice was an emotion, too.</p><p>In the middle of her internal deliberations, Raven caught sight of Jinx by the fire. She had moved, the latest in a series of flip-flops between curling toward the fire and curling away from it. "You're still cold," Raven said.</p><p>Jinx looked up, half groggily. "Huh?"</p><p>"You keep tossing and turning."</p><p>"Oh, yeah." Jinx smiled some, playing it off. "Whatever side's facin' the fire is fine, but…can't seem to stay warm." She chuckled. "I actually feel like it got <em>colder</em>."</p><p>After brief consideration, Raven got up and made her way over.</p><p>Jinx gave a puzzled look as she approached.</p><p>"Tomorrow's going to be another long day. You need sleep. You'll stay warmer if we share," Raven told her.</p><p>"Share what?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven offered only a look in response as she took her cloak in both hands to use as a blanket for the two of them.</p><p>Jinx recoiled slightly, now wide awake. "<em>Uh</em>…"</p><p>Raven paused, staring at her. "What?"</p><p>In the next few seconds, the series of emotions that washed over Jinx, dismissed or buried however quickly, painted a nonetheless accurate picture for the observing empath.</p><p>"Oh," Raven deadpanned, then raised a curious eyebrow. "Really?"</p><p>Jinx took a more defensive posture. "Really what?"</p><p>"Empath," Raven reminded her simply.</p><p>Jinx groused. "Seriously unfair…like an invasion of privacy, or somethin'…"</p><p>"Sorry." Raven's characteristic lack of feeling seemed to undercut the apology, even though it was sincere. "Why?" she inquired, attempting to hide the depth of her interest.</p><p>Looking away and still seeming somewhat violated, Jinx merely shrugged. To her surprise, however, Raven continued in her previous course. "What're ya doin'?"</p><p>"Sharing warmth," Raven said obviously.</p><p>"W— <em>Really</em>?"</p><p>"Are you still cold?" Raven asked.</p><p>"Well, yeah," Jinx couldn't deny.</p><p>"Then, yes."</p><p>"Uh… Little weird, isn't it?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"Are you going to make it weird?"</p><p>"No!" Jinx denied, like she had taken offence.</p><p>"Then no," Raven concluded. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm tired. I would appreciate some rest."</p><p>Still noticeably uncomfortable, Jinx put up no more fuss when Raven lay down behind her—flat on her back, facing up, with her cloak spread over them both.</p><p>"Relax," Raven told her, practically able to <em>feel</em> Jinx's heartbeat through the anxiety in her mind.</p><p>"Ugh," Jinx complained, blushing in a blend of embarrassment and misery. She forced her eyes closed, trying to comply. "Just…stop talking. Please?"</p><p>In agreement, Raven said nothing more. The fire crackled and popped, and over time, Jinx did manage to equalize to some manner of calm. Not long after that, her shifting stopped, some twitching occurred, her breathing slowed, and Raven felt her pass into the veil of sleep.</p><p>The empath herself, however, took somewhat longer, her mind occupied by thoughts of the unintended revelation that had put her companion so off-kilter. Although Raven had no personal experience with such things—physical attraction, perhaps a little, toward Aqualad years before—she was nevertheless well versed in the nuances of those emotions that indicated when one person had feelings for another. Beast Boy and Terra, Cyborg and Bumblebee, even Robin and Starfire in the beginning stages of their friendship, when the Titans had first come into being. Not the deep, satisfied feelings of a meaningful relationship, but the earlier ones of infatuation and attraction: a crush, as it were.</p><p>The suggestion of sharing warmth had inspired those feelings in Jinx, however quickly she had managed to hide them, and left little question at whom they were directed. In the end, Raven attributed little meaning to them, having learned long ago that one could not fault others for their feelings, only for the actions they did or did not take as a result. Jinx's feelings were hers. She could not control them, and she had taken no actions. Hence, there was no meaning.</p><p>Even so, Raven found herself unable to completely banish the thought. To her knowledge, she had never before been the subject of those infatuated feelings.</p><p>Beast Boy, perhaps. Although his had always been more…innocent, an unusual blend of childlike at some points and primal at others, but only briefly touching on anything of intellectual substance in between. Even those had withered in the time since Terra.</p><p>That Jinx's feelings had not been given life through action was true, and that alone should have been enough to put the matter to rest. And perhaps it would have been, in the time before her father's defeat. Now, however, even the ghost of such feelings begged the question: did she return them?</p><p>A simple question, or at least it ought to have been. Probably it would have been, for any remotely normal person. As it was, deciphering the answer, for Raven, was exactly as her mind had referenced earlier: non-Euclidean. So unaccustomed to thinking about people in such terms was she that, when it came to even so simple a question regarding such feelings, she could not even determine if she <em>had</em> them.</p><p>No, that wasn't right. Of course she would know if she had them. They would give themselves voice in her mind, the instant they appeared. The bitter truth was that she did not know if she <em>could</em> have them, whether a lifetime of suppressing and avoiding them had so stunted her development in that particular field that she was now incapable of cultivating them properly.</p><p>But the thought had been raised. That, in itself, was a start. Brought to her attention—the seed  planted—maybe now something would happen. Was that how it worked? The next step? Did something develop on its own, some natural conclusion to which she would come? Or was more input required on her part?</p><p>Resolving to allow the notion some time to mature in her mind, she commit to sleep now and to revisit the issue later.</p><p>And so, for now, she slept.</p><p>***</p><p>Later, Raven shot awake to a loud yell. She found the fire rekindled, only slightly, and Jinx on the ground nearby, her demeanor suggesting she'd fallen.</p><p>Jinx's irate gaze turned on Raven. "Oh. <em>Real </em>mature."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Jinx picked herself up, dusting herself off. "Okay. I get it: don't wander off, or whatever. But if ya got your powers back, ya coulda just said so."</p><p>"I didn't," Raven responded.</p><p>Jinx's annoyance turned to confusion.</p><p>"What happened?" Raven cut in before Jinx could say anything more.</p><p>"I…got up early. Figured I'd go, y'know…look for breakfast or somethin'," Jinx said, still uncertain. "So I start walkin', then…<em>poof</em>. I'm back here, flat on my—"</p><p>Raven raised a hand to signify she understood. "Show me."</p><p>Getting up, Raven followed Jinx to the opening of their little cave. Some distance away, a lone torch lay abandoned on the ground, casting its dim light against the gloom to mark how far Jinx had gotten.</p><p>"Try again," Raven told her.</p><p>Jinx crossed her arms petulantly. "Y—"</p><p>"I believe you," Raven cut her off again. "I just want to see it. Did it hurt?"</p><p>"No," Jinx admitted after a moment.</p><p>"All right. Then, if you don't mind…" Raven gestured in the direction of the torch.</p><p>Like she still wasn't totally sold on the idea, Jinx nevertheless acquiesced and, one step at a time, retraced the path she had taken. When she reached the torch, she picked it up and turned to face Raven, who gestured for her to keep going. Sure enough, a few feet later, Jinx disappeared without any subtle or spectacular display, as though she had simply stepped out of the world. The torch fell to the ground, and Jinx landed on her bottom not far from Raven.</p><p>"<em>Son of a</em>—" she swore under her breath, then stood up and looked, disgruntled, to Raven. "So? What gives?"</p><p>Raven stood in examination of the phenomenon. "I'm…not sure."</p><p>"Your powers definitely still on the fritz?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven gave a nod. "It could be another side effect. When the original interaction occurred, I wasn't just trying to contain the explosion. I was also trying to protect you from it. Reaching out to you. The hex may have twisted that into some kind of tether."</p><p>With the newfound understanding, Jinx's frustration evaporated into a mischievous smirk.</p><p>Raven noticed, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>"I can think of worse things to be tethered to," Jinx teased, then shrugged as she did an about-face and headed back inside with a crude snicker. "No point bein' coy about it now. Right?"</p><p>Before following, Raven caught herself pondering a moment over how, in her own way, Jinx had embraced her own method of straightforward practicality: where most individuals might have experienced a lingering awkwardness at having their innermost thoughts aired to the subject of their intimacies, after a night to sleep on it, Jinx had opted instead not only to accept the situation but also to take ownership of it through making light of it.</p><p>Without much more delay, they decided that following the cliffside would be their objective. It wasn't much, but being the only landmark at their disposal, it was all they had. It also afforded them the hope that they might find a travel path used by the native people of their abyssal abode, if indeed there were any such people. If so, a valley through the mountains might have served as a natural funnel toward a road to civilization, or at the very least a body of water created by runoff from whatever source lay at the other end of the water trickle in their cave.</p><p>If, by the end of that day's exploration, they failed to find any of the aforementioned or food, they would try climbing the following day. Thankfully, Raven could sense a resurgence in her powers as their fatigue started to subside. They would need a little more time to fully relax and recover, not unlike a muscle stuck in spasm after sudden over-exertion, but the news seemed to brighten Jinx's spirits even in the face of their lack of anything to eat.</p><p>With luck, her powers would return completely in the next day or two. They had water, enough wood to last if used sparingly, and would not starve in that time. Until then, Raven deemed exploration the better choice over meditation, opting to allow her powers to right themselves rather than try to meddle in their recovery by way of meditation or trance.</p><p>And so they went, significantly less hindered without the need to lug around their supply of firewood. Keeping the cliff or mountain range, whichever it was, to their right, they trailed along its base for some time. Their individual paces varied, sometimes leaving one or the other slightly farther ahead, but by and large they kept steady progress.</p><p>Conversation was sparse, Raven not particular predisposed to it and Jinx, as near as the empath could tell, otherwise indisposed with something in her own mind: a thought, perhaps, or something else that dredged up the same noxious sludge of doubt, dread, and perfect, undiluted fear that she seemed continuously to bat down, beat back, and bury before it was dredged up once again. When they rested, too, Raven found her companion, between the odd quip or characteristic snark, given to distant gazes into the dark.</p><p>Outwardly, Jinx appeared much as she ever had, save those worrisome far-off looks, which might easily have been attributed to physical or mental fatigue by anyone unaware of the emotional turmoil bubbling just under her everyday façade.</p><p>Opting to kill two birds with one question, Raven decided both to indulge her promise of emotional exploration while also attempting to draw Jinx's attention out of herself.</p><p>"Can I…ask you something?" Raven inquired as they walked, trying through her tone to veil her question in innocent, intellectual curiosity.</p><p>Jinx glanced over.</p><p>Raven kept her eyes ahead. "Why…didn't you ever say anything?"</p><p>From anyone else, such an utter non-sequitur might have prompted clarification. From Raven, however, and given the situation, Jinx grasped her meaning without much effort. She smirked. "Say what? Until a couple months ago, I liked guys—as far as I knew," she admitted with a chuckle.</p><p>"Rivalry," Raven acknowledged aloud, recalling their previous conversation. "So…what changed? When did you notice, I mean."</p><p>A spark of something in Jinx, a series of fleeting feelings—lightning fast, almost certainly involuntary—in response to the question. A mixture of intrigue and subtle curiosity that Raven had come to recognize as suspicion.</p><p>"<em>I'm</em> not sure ya wanna get into that."</p><p>Raven merely waited, allowing her silence to push the issue in a way that words could not.</p><p>"Don't do embarrassment, huh?" Jinx's smile widened, almost deviously. "Ya sure about that?"</p><p>This time, Raven met Jinx's glance. Still, however, she answered with silence.</p><p>Jinx shut her eyes a moment, losing none of her grin, then continued with a sigh, "When Kid Flash and I, uh… Well, when the uniforms came off, like I said, I wasn't really into it. But he's a nice guy, right? So he's very…<em>generous</em>," she implied.</p><p>Raven tightened her hold on her cloak somewhat to assure it stayed up, lest her blush betray her.</p><p>"He wants me to have fun, too. And I am," she added quickly. "But I mean, I'm just not really…and he wants me to, y'know…and I don't want to ruin it for him, hurt his feelings or whatever, so I start goin' through my head to find somethin' to, y'know, get it done, and…well…" Jinx let in insinuation trail off, pretty sure she'd gotten the point across.</p><p>"Oh," Raven replied simply, feeling a warmth spread across her face despite the cold wind.</p><p>Jinx went on like it was nothing. "So, yeah. After that, didn't uh…didn't take a whole lotta work to connect the dots," she said with another chuckle.</p><p>Raven, however, had since dropped the topic like a hot stone, her attention swallowed whole by the end of the mountain range—more than that, by the end of the mountain itself. She stopped, causing Jinx to do the same and her companion's smile to be replaced by a puzzled look.</p><p>"I have good news and bad news," Raven reported.</p><p>"Yeah?" Jinx asked in mild excitement. "What's the good news?"</p><p>"I know where we are."</p><p>"Okay…" Jinx became wary. "And the bad?"</p><p>"You aren't going to like it."</p><p>As the wind seemed to pick up in eerie recognition, Raven felt an unrelated chill scurry up her spine at the crumbled monolith before them, the graven image that must once have stood in conquest and unquestionable dominion over the land and far into the sky, whose fallen form had come to rest in the creation of the mountainside they had found, followed, and sought shelter within. Her eyes peered into it, and its peered into her, stone and cold and unblinking: the cracked and broken four-eyed visage of Trigon the Terrible.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Pathos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"<em>Where</em>?!" Jinx shrieked.</p><p>"My father's domain," Raven reiterated.</p><p>After the immediate shock, Jinx eased a bit at another thought. "And ya know that…how?"</p><p>In response, Raven moved one hand to better illuminate the obelisk's fractured face.</p><p>Jinx paled. "<em>Th-That's</em> your…?"</p><p>"Was," Raven corrected her.</p><p>Jinx forced a smirk. "Well…looks like somebody was overcompensatin'."</p><p>Raven considered the relative size of the statue. "No, that's…pretty accurate."</p><p>Jinx snapped her attention to Raven in disbelief. "I thought your mother was human!"</p><p>"She is," Raven defended, then realized Jinx's point. "He…looked human at the time. Demons don't…really have physiology in the way other creatures do. They choose forms that best reflect them, or that suit their needs at the time."</p><p>Jinx mouthed the word out loud—<em>demon</em>—still processing it, eyes once again fixed on the monstrous face.</p><p>Raven detected a very distinct, very sharp spike of horror in Jinx's mind.</p><p>"Does that mean <em>we're</em>…in…?"</p><p>"Not in the way you understand it," Rave was quick to assure her. "The way it's used in reference to my father, the word 'demon' is more symbolic of his nature."</p><p>"Which is…"</p><p>"An inter-dimensional being of cruelty, hatred, and rage incarnate, empowered by the souls from countless millions of worlds," Raven clarified.</p><p>Jinx rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. <em>That</em> makes me feel better…"</p><p>"At any rate, I believe that's where we are: the original seat of his power."</p><p>"His home planet?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven gave a half-shrug. "Dimension," she more-or-less agreed.</p><p>"So why's it all, like…" Jinx gestured around them at the dark, the wind, and the cold.</p><p>"First, he enslaved worlds," Raven explained. "Then, to strengthen himself, he drained them of all their energies, all their life." She looked up at the starless night, empty and infinite. "Everything here is dead, and has been for a very long time."</p><p>Jinx did the same, turning in place to take in the scope of it all, nearly stumbling when her equilibrium suddenly wobbled.</p><p>Raven knelt, taking a handful of the crusty earth and crumbling it in her hand amidst the wind. Her mind returned to the day her father had arrived on Earth, the memories colored by dancing pillars of flame and the sinister glow of molten rivers. It had taken great and painstaking work for him to break through into their dimension, and an extraordinary amount of his power.</p><p>She looked out again into the impenetrable dark: an entire dimension turned into a veritable kiln of fury and suffering in the face of her father's wrath undiluted. How hot those fires must have burned, she wondered, to allow them even to survive here now, however uncomfortably, by virtue only of whatever residual heat remained in his absence.</p><p>When she returned her attention to Jinx, Raven found her engrossed in looking up and around, presumably having it settle upon her that they were the first two Earthlings ever to witness pure, unabated darkness. No suns, no stars, no light-giving energy of any kind <em>anywhere</em> beyond their little bubble. One of two living things alone in a starless universe. Raven saw a shiver wriggle through her, though, the empath could sense, not from the cold.</p><p>Then, Jinx turned to her, eyes slightly wide. "And you…?"</p><p>Raven felt the change in Jinx's emotions as they swept and swirled from one to the next, landing somewhere between awe, terror, respect, and disbelief. She stared forward at the statue. "He was…<em>severely</em> weakened, when he arrived on Earth."</p><p>At that, Jinx's eyes widened in earnest, as though the two thoughts—Raven's residency on Earth and her claim to have slain her father—had not truly connected until that moment.</p><p>Rather than allow her to ask, Raven gave a brief recounting of…well…the end of the world: the day itself, her role in it, the prophecy that had accompanied her birth, all of it.</p><p>"It's…why I became a hero," Raven continued, losing herself in memories. "I…decided to do good, as many good things as I could to try to make up for… And then, I met the others, and I started to think that maybe it wasn't so hopeless. Maybe they could…<em>we</em> could fight."</p><p>A pause followed, Jinx's eyes on Raven while her cloak flapped in the wind.</p><p>"When it finally happened, all of our fighting, everything we did to stop it, nothing mattered." Raven's shoulders fell, remembering. "My father arrived, and as his inaugural act, he razed the Earth and turned everyone, everywhere, to stone—in an <em>instant</em>."</p><p>Jinx blanched.</p><p>Raven, however, saw only the dead dimension that surrounded them: an eerie reminder of how much worse it could have been. "At his peak, he was…all but omnipotent, able to alter reality on a whim. Forcing his way into our dimension weakened him, and eradicating all the life there exhausted him. My connection to him spared me, and their connection to me spared the Titans, but…don't give us more credit than we deserve. It was my father's arrogance that ended him. His pride."</p><p>Jinx's gaze moved slowly to the four-eyed face carved in the crumbling stone, her imagination trying in vain to wrap itself around that kind of power, that kind of <em>being</em>. Raven had called her father a demon, but her description sounded closer to a <em>god</em>.</p><p>"Well…'least he's gone now, I guess…" Jinx offered up what meager plus-side she could find.</p><p>"More or less," Raven, once again, half agreed.</p><p>Jinx gave a look of clear concern.</p><p>Raven turned her head up at the void. "Death, in the permanent sense, is a very mortal concept. Some very poor choices by some very stupid cultists woke up something that had existed since before the universe, gave form to a force of nature. We put it back to sleep. That's all."</p><p>"So he's <em>not</em> dead?" Jinx asked, trying to clarify.</p><p>"He is," Raven assured her, adding, "for now." She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. "Anyway, we should go back. My powers will likely return tomorrow, and we won't find anything more by wasting energy wandering. We know that now." Raven turned and started back.</p><p>A few moments more to look upon the fallen monument, and Jinx stepped in alongside her. They walked quietly for a while, even Jinx's distinctly <em>not</em> empathic self having little difficulty in detecting the tension and regret their discovery had dredged up in her companion. Without really thinking about it, she did what she always did to diffuse a situation: cracked a joke.</p><p>"Guess I'm not the only one who didn't go to the League with her problems, eh?" she quipped as they traversed a few chunks of rubble.</p><p>"I did," Raven said from in front, keeping a good emotional distance from the feelings <em>those </em>memories conjured—keeping her distance and listening to them beat their rage and resentment against the wall she had erected around them, again and again. "They…sensed what I was, and…" She searched for the right words. "I imagine they thought it was some kind of ploy. Either way, I found the Titans, so it worked out."</p><p>Not that she was bitter.</p><p>A howling roar, and a prodigious <em>slam</em> from the other side of that wall.</p><p>No, not at all.</p><p>Jinx screwed up her lips. Well, <em>that</em> hadn't worked.</p><p>When they reached the cave, Raven stopped at the entrance, seeming to take it in a second time now that the truth of the mountain had been revealed.</p><p>She started in mild surprise when Jinx moved past and took her by the wrist, dragging her in tow.</p><p>"Uh-huh, yeah. Super, mega, <em>giant</em> daddy issues. Got it." Jinx released Raven, rekindling the fire. "Gotta say, though. Not really sure what the deal is with the whole <em>angst</em>…thing. Ya kicked his demon ass so hard he…<em>poofed</em>…back into the aether, or whatever, like some video game bad guy. Handicap or not. I mean, congrats. Ya won. So…what?"</p><p>Raven stood in the doorway, as it were—somehow, she felt, in more ways than one—and considered the question. Perhaps, for the first time. Yes, almost certainly. As strange it as it was, as it seemed to her, she had never before truly considered that point of view. Or rather, that option: that she could simply…choose…to feel differently, about discussing her father, her heritage, the destiny afforded her at birth that she had so vehemently denied.</p><p>For her entire life, attached to those subjects had been exactly what Jinx had described: sullenness, angst, regret, sorrow, fear, doubt, nihilism, and a host of others. Until now, there had been two realities: emotions could be compartmentalized and shut away, or they could conduct themselves. She could choose to feel nothing, or she could choose to feel whatever emotions happened to surface. So foreign were they to her in their intricacies and actual natures that she had never even before entertained, never even <em>had</em> the thought that she could simply <em>choose</em> how to feel about a thing.</p><p>Her father, her past, her nature—she could <em>choose</em> to feel differently. She didn't need to feel the way she did and, indeed, just as Jinx had pointed out, her victory over all of those things, by all accounts, indicated that she <em>should</em> have felt differently now than she had before. They had been so deeply seated, so firmly ingrained in her mind since her birth that, even after her moment of triumph over them, they still shackled her with the feelings they continued to inspire.</p><p>But they didn't <em>have</em> to.</p><p>"I…don't know," Raven admitted honestly, only a few seconds having passed during her entire mental exchange.</p><p>Jinx chuckled quietly, smirking. "Yeah, well… You're kind of a big damn hero, sounds like. Maybe try lettin' yourself feel like one for once. Some of us went bad, y'know, 'cuz we thought we didn't have a choice. Oh, I dunno. Bad luck powers, random example. Meanwhile, your dad's gonna end the world, and <em>you</em> go girl scout anyway and <em>still</em> let yourself feel like shit about it. I don't mean to force-feed advice or whatever, but like…it <em>sounds</em> like ya did everything right. So…why feel bad about it?"</p><p>Jinx glanced over when Raven approached and knelt beside her, watching the fledgling flames.</p><p>"You're right," Raven said.</p><p>Jinx grinned smugly. "Yeah? And?"</p><p>In the moments that followed, Raven took the first steps in reorganizing her feelings toward certain subjects, casting her old point of view into the fire in favor of the new one she had chosen to embrace: that she <em>could</em> choose—not only when to feel, but how. It would take time, certainly. And patience, and practice, and many missteps while she adjusted. But the thought of it gave her peace, and in the meantime, she smiled.</p><p>Somehow, in the glow of their little fire there in the cave, secure in the hope of rescue when Raven's powers returned and nestled in the remains of the toppled effigy that had once represented the truly insurmountable, an inexplicable sense of comfort shook off the cold and settled over them both. The pangs and growls of unsated hunger came and went. They had more water, though spoke little, neither finding it particularly necessary. For the moment, all that needed to be said—aloud, at least—had been said, and that was enough.</p><p>After a while, they again prepared to bed down, in the same manner as the previous night. Raven lay flat, looking up, while Jinx lay on her side facing the fire. Although it took a bit longer than it had before, her mind turning from one thought to the next as it mulled over the day's events, or even whether it had really been an entire day in the absence of any method by which to tell time. But after a while, Raven, too, succumbed to sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>Sometime later—hours, perhaps, though she couldn't say for certain—Raven found herself awoken when she had, apparently, made to roll to one side. Her inability to do so had drawn her back from a dreamless slumber to find a weight on her sternum. When her eyes adjusted, she found an arm. At some point, Jinx must have turned over, one arm and part of her body slung over the empath.</p><p>A simple thing, as Raven understood it. The byproduct of conditioning during infancy to search for sources of warmth during sleep, instilled first by a person's mother and then reinforced by any number of stuffed animals throughout childhood. She had even read studies indicating that fully grown adults often slept better and more soundly by holding a pillow in a way not dissimilar to the way Jinx's arm draped over her now. Unconscious and, to Raven, innocuous, the act represented nothing to her upon first viewing.</p><p>However, in the context of a question she had posed to herself earlier—did she reciprocate certain feelings—it began to take on a new light. Whereas Raven would normally have dismissed it entirely, now she found herself examining it: how it felt, not just how it made her feel, but how it literally, physically felt.</p><p>A lifetime spent at arm's length from just about everyone had left her both accustomed to that distance, now thoroughly invaded, and <em>un</em>accustomed to the otherwise simple sensation of human warmth, of contact. Something people like Starfire mightn't even have noticed gave her pause at its…strangeness. A thing that even young children could simply appreciate at face value as a natural part of being human, she found herself forced to deconstruct, struck by its seemingly oxymoronic nature: a long-gone familiarity and simultaneous, undeniable alien-ness.</p><p>Why should it have felt that way? At what point in her life had human contact, outside of a fleeting hug or handshake, become <em>foreign</em>? Of course, she had never been overly fond of such things; that was her personality, a part of who she was. But when had it slipped so <em>far</em>?</p><p>Her heart sank a little at the idea of it. How <em>sad</em> a thing had she become, really?</p><p>And so, rather than remove the offending appendage and merely allow herself back into the arms of sleep, Raven found herself compelled, somehow, not only to allow it to continue, but to drink in its every sensation: the light weight, the faint but radiating heat, the sound of her companion's slow, restful breaths and the tiny movements of her arm that came along with them—hyper-aware of them all.</p><p>Raven's right arm, poised to squirm its way from underneath her slumbering companion, instead came to rest, even to her own surprise, on Jinx's back rather than back down on the ground. Emboldened somewhat by the harsh accusations swirling against herself in her mind, Raven allowed her curiosity some freedom.</p><p>Her fingertips touched gently against the slumbering form, experiencing the temperature, the firmness and the give of skin, flesh and muscle with each rise and fall, all the unique qualities of another body not normally given such careful consideration.</p><p>Then, a break in the rhythm.</p><p>Jinx stirred, awareness congealing slowly as conscious thoughts and feelings took shape: fatigue, then comfort, followed by confusion. At that point, realization struck like a static shock, and Jinx moved sleepily but quickly to get off once she realized her position.</p><p>A second wave of realization came when, in the course of doing so, she noticed Raven's hand on her. Surprise, then. Uncertainty and that unnamed emotion brought alive with the fluttering of a heart. If she had been unaware before, there could be no question when, looming above after pausing halfway through moving, Jinx allowed her eyes to focus down: Raven was awake.</p><p>They stared in silence, Raven a step removed as she allowed her curiosity reign, Jinx a stark contrast in her rising crescendo of indistinguishable emotion, a torrent of wants and doubts at once pulling her away and forcing her still.</p><p>Raven's eyes widened, her own heart skipping a beat or two when, without warning, Jinx darted down and touched their lips together. After a moment, she withdrew just as quickly, wracked by a sudden surge of elation, horror and guilt at what she had done. She made again to move.</p><p>Raven's arm remained still against her back.</p><p>Although she could not be certain, Raven entertained the thought that, just then, she had perhaps moved her head slightly forward, just a bit, out of some unfamiliar reflex or compulsion.</p><p>Her eyes betraying her every fear, even so, Jinx leaned in again, more slowly, seeking validation or asking permission this time for what she had taken before.</p><p>Raven supposed she must have given it, however and in whatever form, because not long after, their lips touched a second time—an entirely closed-mouth affair, but this time, Jinx did not draw back.</p><p>Raven closed her eyes in examination, to remove the distraction so as to better focus on the new litany of sensations: the feel of strange lips on hers, of foreign breaths against her face, of the veritable <em>onslaught</em> of relief, incredulity, and excitement emanating from her partner that seemed to permeate into her as well.</p><p>She noticed her own heart begin to race, her face begin to flush and grow warm, the muscles in her chest and stomach tighten at the realization that she was kissing back and had no idea when she had started to do so or why.</p><p>Utterly inexplicable. The entire series of events, a whirlwind of emotions inspiring actions inspiring emotions: Jinx's every feeling projecting so strongly onto her, causing her to react, and her every reaction evoking more feelings in Jinx as more and more wordless momentum continued to rebound and build.</p><p>A particularly heated emotional bombardment saw Raven's other arm join in their activities, wrapping them both up around Jinx's shoulders as if to pull her in; Jinx moved on top in earnest, fueled by the consent into an even more feverish display: kisses, short or long, pulling back only briefly to return again for more, both with eyes shut and both utterly afraid to speak or to slow down.</p><p>To do either invited time to pause, time to think, time to consider the reality outside of the remarkable sensations being so freely given and received. For Raven, something she did not, could not understand but could not and would not attempt to argue that she did not enjoy. For her partner, the realization of some long-held and closely kept fantasy, being made manifest right before her eyes. And neither one willing to risk losing whatever incomprehensible but inarguable <em>rightness </em>upon which they had managed to stumble.</p><p>It felt good, and that was as much as either one of them cared to know.</p><p>Jinx's head moved to one side, down to Raven's neck, and Raven jolted slightly at the guttural, wholly uncharacteristic sound that escaped her when she felt teeth, not enough to have left a mark but certainly enough to have been noticed.</p><p>Raven opened her eyes at a particularly odd…something…rising inside her in swells the longer they went on. Her heart pulsed heavily, causing her vision to go fuzzy when it did, and with a sudden urge she failed to control, her fingernails pressed into Jinx's shoulders and dragged down her back. Not even enough to tear clothing, let alone the skin beneath—Jinx even seemed approving, in fact—the largely involuntary act brought Raven thoroughly back to that dreaded reality they had kept so busy to avoid.</p><p>Reluctantly, she eased Jinx up and away, her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she met Jinx's wanting, half frightened eyes. "We have to stop," she breathed.</p><p>"Why?" Jinx asked, breathing heavily. After a few seconds, she returned more to herself. "Okay," she said, thankfully not in disappointment or discouragement, but with sincerity, out of respect for Raven's wish to stop.</p><p>No more talking, Jinx settled back down. Even through her own mental deliberations, Raven could not help but be aware of the worry creeping into the back of Jinx's thoughts, concern that she had done something wrong. Unwilling to let the experience be ruined, before the meta could attempt to move back to her own side, Raven took the initiative to position them much the way they had been when she had awoken. Reassured, Jinx rested against her, her arm over the empath while Raven's held her there.</p><p>How long it took for Jinx to return to sleep after that, Raven could not have said. She did, eventually, as did Raven herself, when the adrenaline had fully faded. But in the meantime, Raven found her thoughts caught in the gravitational pull of that peculiar impulse, the one responsible for the curiosity that had instigated their volatile intimacy. The one responsible for that unadulterated sound she had uttered, for the way she had raked her nails—much, much more lightly than she'd wished at the time—and for a host of other thoughts that had so unsettled her as to bring the entirety of their momentum to a dead stop, for fear of what might have happened if they had not.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Heart and Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raven woke first, however much time later. The entire experience—that is, slipping into sleep from and waking into the same empty void of a world—had begun to take on an almost fantastical quality: as though she never truly woke at all, but instead merely shifted between different dreams.</p><p>This time, however, she had awoken to a feeling unrelated to the cold or even to the body still unconscious against her. A formless fullness in her center told her that her powers had returned, but that was not what had drawn her back from the other dreamland. No, instead it was a gentle tugging on her aura.</p><p>The muddled, myriad uncertainties of a mind returning to consciousness. Then, clarity. Recognition, worry, and regret. Jinx had awoken.</p><p>For a moment, the mustering of certain other emotions seemed to indicate that Jinx would speak, but hesitation set in at the last moment.</p><p>"So…" Raven began for her.</p><p>Jinx sat up. "Yeah…"</p><p>More worry, anxiety, snowballing in the pregnant pause between them.</p><p>Raven took a slow, centering breath, and then, compartmentalizing any other feelings she might have had, donned the mantle of practicality to address the elephant directly. "You want to talk about what happened, and we will. But now is not the time. My powers are back, and after a few hours of meditation to draw them out, I should be able to get us home. Then, we'll talk. It's…complicated. For now, just remember: I…didn't push you away."</p><p>Jinx seemed to take a few seconds to assimilate the information. Then, she smiled. "No beatin' around the bush with you, is there?"</p><p>Raven raised an eyebrow. "Empath." Then, her expression saddened somewhat, in preparation to broach a more difficult subject.</p><p>Before Raven could continue, Jinx perked up, but not at their conversation. She listened intently for a moment, then stood up, making it clear through her posture that she had heard something outside. A look down at Raven indicated that, whatever it had been, it hadn't been the wind.</p><p>Jinx flexed her fingers on her right hand and grimaced at the distinct lack of pink. "<em>Tch</em>. Got <em>yours</em> back, at least."</p><p>"Bad luck?" Raven quipped, retrieving their lights; the lights were enveloped in black before being levitated over, one for each of them, as well as Jinx's stick.</p><p>The lights flickered to life, and together, they moved cautiously toward the exit. When the mouth of the cave came into view, illuminated by the lights, they both stopped; Jinx took a step back, while Raven's mouth opened slightly in surprise at the thing shambling toward them by way of stiff, erratic movement on gangly, disproportionate limbs.</p><p>Vaguely humanoid in its size and shape, the frightful being exhibited no finer features of any kind, its body enshrouded by dim, white light that seemed to rise from it like smoke, as though the creature itself was not entirely stable but rather in a state of perpetual evaporation and reconstitution. It moved close to the ground, six discernable limbs of unequal measure dragging it along one or two at a time in awkward, disturbing semi-locomotion, and was, for its part, completely silent.</p><p>Clearly, Jinx had not heard it as she seemed to have believed. More likely, she had <em>felt</em> it, much the same as Raven; as it drew nearer, the tugging on her aura grew more pronounced, never powerful but ever more prominent.</p><p>A horror. Not the Hollywood kind, unconcerned with jump-scares or gore, not as frightful in its appearance as it was in its <em>existence</em>: a real horror, one that assaulted the mind merely to look upon the sheer wrongness of it, that made the eyes water and the hands tremble in the most primal, palpable fear.</p><p>"What…is <em>that</em>?" Jinx asked in disgust.</p><p>Raven set her jaw, hardening her expression. "You…know how, when you eat a peanut, you eat the inside and throw the rest away?"</p><p>Jinx turned warily to her. "Yeah…"</p><p>"Replace 'peanut' with 'soul,'" Raven said.</p><p>A jolt of fear, then an underlying sympathy. Jinx looked again upon the thing.</p><p>"I already told you that my father could alter reality," Raven went on, postulating out loud. "It would seem he changed the rules in this dimension and gave souls form. Either he…consumed them all at once and amused himself by allowing the shells to suffer, or he—" She stopped short as the next series of dots connected in her mind and their repercussions dropped her heart like a stone.</p><p>"Or what?" Jinx pressed her, the thing drawing closer.</p><p>Raven's eyes widened, still processing all the possible implications. "O-Or he…didn't consume them at all…used them like…batteries…"</p><p>Jinx furrowed her brow, confused by Raven's sudden shock and feeling like she'd missed a punchline somewhere. "So, what?"</p><p>"So my power comes from <em>him</em>," Raven insisted. "Two pools filled by the same water, and when I defeated him, I only did it by drawing more of it to my side." Her eyes held fast to the creature, its every misshapen, unnatural feature, unable to blink or to look away, captivated by an all new kind of terror. "By using <em>them</em>…just like…just like…" Her voice trailed off in a whisper.</p><p>Somewhere in the darkest, most paranoid corner of Raven's psyche, a sinister smile let slip a cruel and gravelly laugh in final, posthumous victory.</p><p>Keenly aware of Raven's precarious teetering over the edge of a panic attack, Jinx weighed her options briefly before taking the initiative—and Raven's wrist.</p><p>"Don't touch it!" Raven cried.</p><p>Empath in tow, Jinx used her walking stick to shove the creature to one side so they could pass. While not completely solid, the creature did move enough for them to get by.</p><p>Outside, Jinx halted, considering where best to go for Raven to clear her head and start her meditation.</p><p>Then, the ground around them began to radiate a feint glow. Up from the charred, brittle earth emerged a host of otherworldly horrors not dissimilar from the first. Their shapes, sizes, and levels of individual deformity varied greatly, but that they occupied the same tortured existence was unmistakable.</p><p>In short order, a small army beset them on all sides, crawling and lurching toward them.</p><p>"So, about those powers," Jinx pointed out with urgency.</p><p>"I-I can't," Raven declined.</p><p>Jinx's head whipped around to her in a flash. "Come again?"</p><p>"Think about it," Raven insisted. "We've been here for days and didn't see them. They only appeared when my powers came back. I can feel them pulling on my energy <em>right now</em>. I don't really want to find out what happens when I give them a hardline to my <em>soul</em>."</p><p>Swearing under her breath, Jinx latched onto Raven again and took off running in the direction they had walked the day before but with no place specifically in mind.</p><p>She knew they needed <em>away</em>, whatever that meant. And until they figured it out, the best they had was to move.</p><p>Even as they did, no matter how far or how fast, the ground glowed beneath them and gave rise to the legion of nameless blasphemies that flanked them everywhere they went. Thankfully, their stilted movements were not quick ones, and avoiding them required no special agility or attention.</p><p>They ran until the random appearances of the creatures managed to combine in a perfect storm that left them boxed in with their backs to the mountainside. Out of options, and with more of the things congealing from the mountainside itself, the twosome stood surrounded. Jinx more than her partner, they readied to put up whatever meager resistance they could offer.</p><p>The air around them crackled. Tiny but unmistakable arcs of electricity sparked nearby, stronger and more frequently over the course of only a few seconds before culminating in an ear-splitting <em>snap</em> and a blue portal.</p><p>Jinx grinned, her vigor renewed. "All right, Tin Man!" she praised, grabbing Raven and making a break for it.</p><p>Jinx was not wrong; Raven could recognize the energy that comprised the portal, and had no doubt that it would lead them home. The thought, however, triggered another realization. "Wait!"</p><p>"<em>Sayonara</em>!" Jinx sneered at the creatures as she passed the finish line, Raven only a moment behind.</p><p>A flash of light, and Raven found herself on her hands and knees in Cyborg's workshop, free of Jinx's grasp.</p><p>Jinx drew a mighty breath, spun once in place, and let out a satisfied, "<em>Ah</em>!"</p><p>Raven said nothing and did not move, head down and eyes on the floor. She pinched her eyes closed, her stomach twisting into a knot as she awaited the inevitable. It crept slowly in the aftermath of Jinx's elation, excitement, and relief at their escape: a strange curiosity stalking its way closer, tail swishing as it readied to pounce.</p><p>The portal closed.</p><p>Jinx's brow furrowed, there in the undoubtedly heated, windless room. She was still cold.</p><p>"Raven!" Starfire flew forward.</p><p>Jinx threw her arms up to block the impact as Starfire careened toward her, then lowered them when the Tameranean passed harmlessly through.</p><p>"You are…all right?" Starfire asked, stopping short of touching Raven.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Raven said.</p><p>Robin moved forward next, offering his hand to Raven. Jinx flinched but froze, his arm sticking through her.</p><p>Shock.</p><p>"Are you okay?" Robin asked Raven. "After we realized you teleported, it took Cyborg a few days to track your energy signature and rig up a machine to bring you back."</p><p>"Easier when ya stay in the same dimension," Cyborg added kindly.</p><p>"Where's Jinx?" Robin asked. "Was she with you? Did she make it?"</p><p>Dread, like a sinking stone.</p><p>Heart racing, Jinx lowered slowly onto her knees, arms held tightly around herself, every muscle constricting as though in an effort to hold her body together in the face of the storm of thoughts howling inside her: was she dead? Had she died? Was this what it felt like? Any moment, would she disappear? What happened next? Did <em>anything</em> happen?</p><p>And then: What if <em>nothing</em> happened? What if she disappeared and that was just…the <em>end</em>?</p><p>Horror.</p><p>"I…told you the hex field created a tether, because I reached out to you," Raven explained. "That's true, but…it's more than that."</p><p>Panic.</p><p>Raven struggled to set aside the woman's churning, toxic tide of emotions. "It…didn't tether your body," she went on, confusion overtaking the rest of their audience as they struggled to follow the strange monologue. "It tethered your soul. And because of…what I am…it bound it to me. The farther you were, the colder you felt, until you reached the limit and… This dimension is different. Souls…aren't corporeal here."</p><p>Cyborg caught on first. "Oh, man…"</p><p>And then Beast Boy. "Dude…"</p><p>Starfire clasped a hand over her mouth with a stifled gasp.</p><p>"She's…here?" Robin asked. "Where?"</p><p>Raven's only response came in the form of an agitated glare, indicating Jinx's position.</p><p>When Robin realized, his hand snapped back like he'd touched a hot stove, eyes wide under his mask.</p><p>Jinx fought the urge to cry, doubling over as she struggled in vein to come to terms. Her whole stupid life, that <em>stupid</em> giggly little girl, all of it leading to what? To this?</p><p>Frustration.</p><p>Raven grimaced, keenly aware of every ounce of pressure building inside the woman as she steeled her mind so as not to be blown away by the hurricane of emotion barreling through her.</p><p>A breeze kicked up in the lab, causing the others to brace for they didn't know what.</p><p>So, what? Everything she'd done, how far she'd come… This was it? This was how it ended?</p><p>Anger.</p><p>Raven tried to interject. "Jinx—"</p><p>The breeze picked up into a blustery wind.</p><p>"Raven?" Robin asked, confirming whether he should be worried.</p><p>Figuring out her powers, figuring out her life, figuring out <em>herself</em>, it was all over? Just like that?</p><p>A single droplet of rage fell into Jinx's emotional storm, catalyzing the recipe in an instant: Anguish.</p><p>A gale-force gust preempted any response from the empath, pinning Beast Boy to the wall and forcing the others to fight to stay standing against the miniature tornado brewing in the room. Lab equipment of insufficient weight was blown to the perimeter, Raven erecting a small barrier to shield herself.</p><p>"Raven!" Robin called out. "How do we—" He grunted when another gust knocked him back, caught by Starfire who helped keep him upright.</p><p>"You need to listen!" Raven shouted, getting to her feet. "I can fix this!"</p><p>Without eyes that belied the turmoil inside, Jinx spared her a look, and with a sobering voice replied, "I know you're new at…<em>this</em>, or whatever." She gestured between them. "But…little advice? Don't lead a girl on."</p><p>"I'm not!" Raven claimed adamantly, then lost some conviction. "I…didn't. I said it was complicated. I…made a mistake, got curious, lost control…"</p><p>The wind eased up a bit.</p><p>A spark of present concern entered Jinx's expression, and she turned her attention to Raven in earnest. "Was it? A mistake?"</p><p>Raven turned her eyes downcast, ashamed. "Your soul is <em>bound</em> to me. The walking stick, the firewood…everything else…no matter what I said, you couldn't say no. More than that, you wouldn't have <em>wanted</em> to. Even now: I told you to listen. I wanted you to calm down, and you are—reacting to <em>my</em> will and believing it's yours. I…never meant to, but I took advantage, and…I'm sorry…"</p><p>The wind died down almost completely.</p><p>"You didn't," Jinx assured her.</p><p>"You don't know that," Raven argued. "You <em>can't</em>. That's the whole point."</p><p>"No, but…all that stuff I said? About when…" Jinx trailed off, unable to say the words <em>I was alive</em>. "It wasn't a lie. Didja think about me like that <em>before</em> I brought it up?"</p><p>"No," Raven admitted, realizing after exactly what that meant.</p><p>"Then maybe ya made me an offer I couldn't refuse, but…I wouldn't have wanted to. Too bad, huh?" Jinx put on a sad smile.</p><p>"I said I can fix this," Raven told her.</p><p>Hope, the tiniest of candles. "How?"</p><p>"Like I said: your soul is bound to me. I can do what I want <em>with</em> it," Raven said. "The capsule meant to preserve your body in the event of catastrophic failure did exactly that, and draws its power directly from your energy. When I found you, I disconnected you from everything but the life support. There isn't anything <em>wrong</em> with your body," she insisted, adding afterward, "Well, except the obvious."</p><p>More hope.</p><p>"While <em>I</em> might not be able to go back there, the others can use Cyborg's machine to retrieve your body. And because I have dominion over your soul, I should be able to put it back. Think of it as…an extended out-of-body experience."</p><p>Tentative optimism, but tempered by trust.</p><p>Raven breathed an internal sigh of relief. "I…didn't know what sort of effect it would have on you, if I told you," she explained in defense of herself. "And we didn't have a way to transport your body anyway, so I thought… I…did mean to tell you, before we came back."</p><p>A few seconds ticked by in silence, no one else in the room willing to speak until Raven gave the all-clear.</p><p>"So…what now?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"Now, I start by answering some questions," Raven decided, opening the floor to the group.</p><p>Glancing between the others, Beast Boy slowly raised his hand. "What?" he asked, just…in general, about everything that had just happened.</p><p>Over the next half hour or so, Raven relayed the events surrounding Jinx and herself over the last few days, leaving the more personal points to implication rather than detail. For their part, the others recounted the turning over of Professor Chang and the disposal of his research. Then Cyborg explained how they had managed to track down the pair: figuring out that Raven had teleported had been the easy part, but to find out where she'd gone, they had resorted to taking a play from one of her spell books and blending it into Cyborg's machine in a little magitech of their own.</p><p>"After the first couple days, I was startin' to think maybe it didn't work," Cyborg admitted. "But if your powers were outta commission, that explains why it couldn't pinpoint your location."</p><p>"I'm impressed you managed to get the spell to work at all," Raven said.</p><p>Cyborg shrugged. "Nothin' too complicated. When your family needs ya, ya do what ya gotta do."</p><p>Raven smiled. "Thank you. All of you."</p><p>"We're just glad to have you back," Robin told her.</p><p>"And friend Jinx, as well," Starfire added.</p><p>"Feel the love," Jinx quipped, fully aware that no one but Raven could hear her.</p><p>"So…you made out?" Beast Boy asked.</p><p>The group turned to him, unimpressed.</p><p>"What?" he complained. "It's <em>Raven</em>!"</p><p>"I just told you that I removed Jinx's soul from her body before teleporting us to my father's home dimension where we were accosted by the husks of its former inhabitants, and <em>that's</em> your point of clarification?" Raven asked.</p><p>Beast Boy looked around, unsure how to answer, before venturing a guess. "Yes…?"</p><p>Starfire beamed. "We are most happy for both of you."</p><p>"Thank you. But I think exploring the particulars of any sort of relationship would be better saved for when I don't claim ownership over her immortal soul."</p><p>"Agreed," Robin said, back to business-mode. "On that point, what's our plan?"</p><p>Cyborg scratched the back of his head. "It's…gonna take me a while to get this thing up and runnin' again. Not to mention gettin' it to function without Raven's powers actin' like a beacon. It's doable," he promised. "But it's…gonna take some time."</p><p>"How much time?" Robin asked.</p><p>"Days? Weeks?" Cyborg guessed. "Hard to say. Won't really know until I get in there and start workin'."</p><p>"In the meantime, I can create paper talismans to help Jinx communicate," Raven said.</p><p>"Right here…" Jinx pointed out, scrunching her lips.</p><p>"Sorry," Raven apologized.</p><p>"Couldn't she just…blow stuff around, like she did before?" Beast Boy asked.</p><p>Raven shook her head. "That wasn't intentional. That was because her soul was in turmoil. Theoretically, if she had enough time, she might be able to develop enough control to interact with the physical world, but until then, paper talismans are easier. I'll make them in sets of three. Each one will have a bell, and we'll put a set in each room. One for 'yes,' one for, 'no,' and one just to let people know you're there. You'll be able to move them just by passing through them."</p><p>"Sounds good," Robin agreed. "Are there any other questions?"</p><p>Starfire raised her hand. "I wish to ask the location of friend Jinx."</p><p>"Right now?" Raven asked.</p><p>"Yes," Starfire affirmed.</p><p>Not quite sure of Starfire's point, Raven nonetheless indicated the spot where Jinx was standing.</p><p>Starfire floated over and, although her aim was a little off, did her best to put her arms around the disembodied Jinx. "We truly are relieved that you are safe, even if your present condition is less than desirable. We welcome you as our guest, and we shall do everything we can to assist you in your time of need."</p><p>Jinx looked to Raven, then to Starfire, not that it mattered. "Uh…thanks?"</p><p>"She says thank you," Raven relayed.</p><p>Smiling happily, Starfire retreated beside Robin.</p><p>"Okay," the boy wonder concluded. "I think that's everything. In light of your…condition…I'm exempting you from patrols and missions until this is resolved," he told Raven, then smirked. "Remember: you're living for two, now."</p><p>"Ha-ha," Raven deadpanned. Still, she couldn't disagree. Trying to do either of those things with another person's soul on a leash would've been cumbersome, risky, and dangerously irresponsible. If Robin hadn't volunteered the reprieve, she had intended to ask for it.</p><p>The others, save Cyborg, filed out while Beast Boy invited them to an honorary screening of <em>Ghost</em>.</p><p>Raven turned her attention to Jinx. "Now that my powers are back, it shouldn't be hard to extend your range to the rest of the island."</p><p>"Yes, mom," Jinx mocked.</p><p>"Don't push it. I need a shower. You're welcome to roam until I get your talismans in place. Just…try not to spy on people." Raven walked out.</p><p>Jinx followed, hands clasped innocently behind her back. "Right. And when ya say people, naturally, ya mean…"</p><p>"I mean I can sense where you are at all times," Raven clarified.</p><p>Jinx pouted. "You're no fun. I'm dead! Can't I at least get some gossip out of it?"</p><p>After they left, Cyborg stood alone in his workshop and paused in his work. He shook his head with a sigh at seeing Raven talking to herself. "<em>That</em> is gonna take some gettin' used to."</p><p>***</p><p>Later, Raven emerged from her bathroom clean, clothed, and refreshed in a billow of steam. She found Jinx sitting on the edge of her bed and sat beside her.</p><p>"How are you doing? Really," Raven asked after a moment.</p><p>Jinx smirked. "What happened to bein' an empath?"</p><p>"I could guess," Raven acknowledged. "But I would rather hear it from you."</p><p>Jinx shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I don't even know the <em>rules</em>."</p><p>"Can I help?" Raven offered.</p><p>Jinx considered, then sighed. "Like, okay. When ya went to get your shower, I'm standin' here, and I'm about to sit down on your bed, and then I think, 'Does that work? Can I sit on it?' And then in the middle of tryin' to figure <em>that</em> out, I realize I'm standin' on the floor. People go through me, but I can stand on the floor. So can I sit on the bed? You're in there gettin' a shower when all <em>I</em> want is the world's hottest bubble bath, and here I am havin' a friggin' existential <em>crisis</em> over whether I can sit on the bed!"</p><p>Raven mulled over the story, letting Jinx decompress from having told it.</p><p>"Finally I just said, 'Screw it,' and sat down," Jinx finished.</p><p>"It's…complicated."</p><p>"I'm gettin' the sense that a lotta stuff is, when it comes to you," Jinx said.</p><p>Raven gave a slow nod. "It is. And so is this. Your ability to interact with the world, right now, is… You can walk on the floor because you know you can. You don't believe it. You expect it—intrinsically. The bed is the same. You could pass through it if you wanted, or you could sit on it like you are, depending on what you expect when you interact with it. It's like a contest, and inanimate objects automatically forfeit because they have no will, no expectation. Other people can't see you, never know exactly where you are, and so aren't capable of the level of certainty necessary in their expectation to make interacting with you possible. Whether they want to or not, it comes down to a contest of wills. Both sides need to be on the same page for it to work, and they can't be, so it won't."</p><p>"Great," Jinx flopped back onto the bed. "So that whole…<em>your will is my will</em>, thing…is that why I'm not still freakin' out?"</p><p>"Maybe," Raven said. "It's…impossible to tell, really."</p><p>"So…what about you and me?" Jinx asked. "I mean, I told ya what I think. What do you think?"</p><p> "I don't know," Raven admitted.</p><p>"Okay, new question," Jinx decided. "Whaddaya <em>want</em>? Like, if I <em>wasn't</em> under I-own-your-soul-mind-control."</p><p>Raven allowed herself some time to construct her response. Normally, she would have waived off the issue by repeating her answer to Jinx's previous question. But considering everything, she felt Jinx deserved something more substantial. In the end, she decided on stream-of-consciousness honesty. "I think that, while I allowed my curiosity too much leeway in an inappropriate situation, the fact that I harbored curiosity at all, much less enough of it for it to go that overboard, makes exploring those feelings further worthwhile. That is, assuming you still feel the same when you get your body back."</p><p>"I will." Jinx wasted no time in her response and made no attempt to conceal her enthusiasm at the prospect.</p><p>Raven failed to hold back a smile. "But, until then, I would be uncomfortable going…probably even as far as we have."</p><p>Jinx shrewdly picked apart Raven's precise meaning. "So, what're we talkin', here? Separate beds? Cuddles but no kisses? Kisses but no makin' out?"</p><p>Raven contained a chuckle. "Probably the second one. Closeness is fine, especially since you'll still feel colder the farther away you are."</p><p>"I can deal with that. Not an <em>A</em>, but not a <em>C</em>. Solid <em>B+</em>," Jinx said with a nod. Her jovial attitude slipped some, allowing a bit of worry to get through. "So, uh…about you fixin' this… On a scale of one to ten…"</p><p>"I'll fix it," Raven said in her most reassuring tone—whether she believed it herself or not.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>: I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before dinner on the day of their homecoming, Raven had talismans in place in each of the tower's many rooms and hallways. With the unexpected help of the rest of the Titans, crafting them all had taken much less time than she had anticipated. The whole event had turned into a kind of arts and crafts project for everyone, much to the empath's surprise, serving as both a group activity and a welcome bonding experience: Cyborg teasing Beast Boy good-naturedly over his craftsmanship while Starfire decorated her contributions with colorful hearts and stars and Robin focused on perfection and practicality, cranking out more than the rest.</p><p>Unable to do much, Jinx had at least managed to settle back into her usual demeanor, occupying her time equally between stepping around the room to broadcast her boredom and amusing herself by passing her various limbs through the others.</p><p>Overall, the feelings incubating among them did a lot to help ease Raven's tension after their experience. Uncertainty was still there, of course, simmering on a low heat inside everyone present, but she supposed she really couldn't have expected much else. More to the point, she counted herself thankful that the group seemed to have taken Jinx's condition in stride, or at least was making the effort to appear that they were. To anyone who <em>wasn't</em> an empath, the effort would have been a successful one.</p><p>Jinx, too, seemed helped a great deal by the warmth and casualness of the scene. Still, Raven could feel it in her, the honest, wide-eyed fear of one suddenly faced with the imminent implications of mortality. Raven had felt it often: near every hospital, every retirement home, some homeless shelters and other such places that lay in wait at the ends of the roads people chose to take in their lives.</p><p>Contrary to what people liked to say sometimes, or what fiction might have had people believe, no one was ever ready to die. Convinced themselves of it, perhaps. But in the moment? Never. Unless the person passing was unconscious, even if the minutes leading up to it were calm and smiling and peaceful, in that last, sometimes imperceptible moment, it always ended on the same frightened note.</p><p>It was the unknown, after all. Fear was natural. To deny it she considered, at best, naïve. At worst, petulant. In the end, all those aware of their passing were afraid. All sought comfort, to be held, a higher or more powerful, knowledgeable, even maternal something to soothe and assure them in the face of the ultimate unknown.</p><p>Something to hold on to, to let them know it would be okay.</p><p>Jinx had come close, closer than most people ever would, hadn't merely found out that she <em>was</em> dying but that she <em>had</em> died. For all practical purposes, anyway. As much as she trusted Raven—and Raven could feel that she did—there would always be doubt. Somewhere tucked and hidden, secreted away and shunned by conscious thought, maybe. But there would always be doubt.</p><p>And in Jinx's case, that doubt culminated in a black hole in the galaxy of her mind: dark, consuming, and horrifying, a single point of existential dread so utterly inescapable that it must never be engaged or acknowledged, lest it swallow her whole.</p><p>So, she didn't. Didn't think about it, didn't <em>allow</em> herself to dwell on it. She played. She sighed and grunted her boredom. She put her arm through Beast Boy's head and pretended her hand was a little mouth on the other side, mimicking his speech like a flailing Muppet and giggling all the while.</p><p>Comfort would come later, when Jinx sought it. Until then, Raven would not offer, would not allow herself to <em>consider</em> offering, much less allow herself to want it. For the next month, she would want, literally, for nothing, as best she could. To want anything was to influence Jinx's will with hers, and the very idea of it, of using someone in that way, sickened her. The fact that, in her rashness, she might have already <em>done</em> it made her ill to think about it.</p><p>Just that easily, with one slip, one lapse in judgement, one mistake, she had played puppet master with someone's soul to sate her own curiosity. No matter how she justified it or rationalized it away, for one night, just for a few minutes, she had risked someone else's afterlife and embraced more of her heritage than even Doctor Light had ever seen.</p><p>Whatever happened, whatever Jinx decided and whatever did or didn't develop between them afterward, as long as she lived, she would never forgive herself for that. Or, at the very least, certainly she would never forget.</p><p>Once all the talismans were finished and set in place, the group reconvened in the common room while Cyborg and Beast Boy set about preparing dinner. Robin and Starfire smiled softly and talked to each other on one end of the couch, probably their first truly relaxed moment since Raven had disappeared, while Raven herself sat with a book on the other end.</p><p>Jinx wandered idly over to the window, staring at it. A thought seemed to occur, and she held an arm out idly, examining her clothes. "So…"</p><p>"I wouldn't," Raven told her.</p><p>Robin and Starfire looked over briefly, but Raven's apparent non-sequiturs had become more or less accepted.</p><p>"I didn't even ask!" Jinx defended.</p><p>Raven flipped a page. "You exist as a representation of your self-image. Your clothes are a part of that. If you take them off, they could disappear."</p><p>"Friend Jinx would like to…remove her clothing?" Starfire asked.</p><p>"That's…what it sounds like," Robin agreed.</p><p>"Please. That is…unusual on this planet, yes?"</p><p>Robin raised an eyebrow at the implication of Starfire's question.</p><p>"For most people," Raven quipped.</p><p>Jinx swaggered closer, hands clasped behind her back and a Cheshire grin across her lips. "Or, maybe, it's not <em>my</em> will that wants me to take them off…"</p><p>The microwave in the kitchen short-circuited with a spark and a puff of smoke.</p><p>All eyes turned to Raven, who offered no outward indication.</p><p>"One-sided conversations, am I right?" Beast Boy chimed in from the peanut gallery.</p><p>"Soup's on!" Cyborg sang out.</p><p>Everyone rose from the couch and headed over to eat.</p><p>Jinx followed, still smiling. "Just think! I can't touch or interact with or even <em>talk</em> to anybody or anything else! I get to play with you for who <em>knows </em>how long!"</p><p>"Joy," Raven deadpanned.</p><p>"Hey, at least I'll get somethin' out of it. Who knew bein' a ghost was so <em>boring</em>? No wonder they're always moanin'…"</p><p>"Not a ghost," Raven corrected her. "Disembodied soul."</p><p>Jinx rolled her eyes. "Big whoop."</p><p>"Ghosts are residual psychic projections attached to places, people, or objects. You're a disembodied soul."</p><p>"Dude," Beast Boy said honestly. "There's no such thing as ghosts?"</p><p>Raven gave him an unimpressed look.</p><p>"We're still on for the movie later, though. Right?" he asked.</p><p>With a roll of her eyes, Raven started into a bowl of the stew Cyborg had prepared for everyone but Beast Boy, who had made himself something more suited to his tastes.</p><p>Jinx stretched her hand high in the background, straining comically and holding one arm up with the other. "Oh! Teacher! Teacher!"</p><p>Raven paused from her food and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"</p><p>Jinx blinked endearingly. "Do I eat?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"So why am I thirsty?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"It's psychological."</p><p>Jinx sighed, leaning quietly against the countertop while the others ate. Just like Raven had said, the moment she stopped thinking about being thirsty, she no longer was. In the other dimension, she really <em>had</em> been thirsty. And hungry. She knew that much hadn't just been in her head. But then, Raven had already said that her father had changed the rules there, given souls form or whatever. If the things that had chased them at the end were any indication, though, they still couldn't really <em>die</em>.</p><p>Her expression saddened somewhat as she recalled all the things she had experienced in that dimension: hunger, thirst, exhaustion, heat and coldness. Try as she might, she could think of no good reasons to allow beings that couldn't die to feel those things. But she could think of plenty of bad ones.</p><p>"What about sleeping?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven glanced over, although Jinx apparently hadn't seen, taken by the sudden shift in her mood and the subsequent lack of her usual abbreviated pronunciation. "I don't see why not. You won't <em>actually</em> be tired, but you can will yourself to be, like being thirsty. In theory, you could probably sleep whenever you wanted."</p><p>Jinx's emotional state tanked, and Raven quickly reexamined her words to find what she might've said wrong.</p><p>"So if I wanted to just…go to sleep…"</p><p>Raven put down her spoon and turned to face Jinx with her full attention. "If you want to do that, I won't stop you. You can go to sleep right now, and the next time you wake up, you'll be back in your body."</p><p>A few moments passed, and then Jinx's smile peaked out again. "And miss out on findin' out how to push your buttons?"</p><p>With a roll of her eyes, Raven resumed eating.</p><p>Cyborg shook his head. "Not gonna lie. It's a pretty messed up situation." He gave a look at where Raven's posture had indicated Jinx to have been. "But don't worry. Hang tight, and we'll get ya fixed up. Who knows? Might not even take that long."</p><p>"And until then, I get to tell people I live in a haunted house," Beast Boy added.</p><p>"People," Raven said.</p><p>Beast Boy took offense. "I have friends! Besides…you guys." He counted on his fingers. "The guy at the electronics store, the one other guy I see buying tofu sometimes, this weird guy who talks about lizard people in the government and feeds ducks at the park…"</p><p>Utensils held in place, everyone gave the green teen a questioning look.</p><p>He became sheepish. "What? I…like being fed."</p><p>"And petted," Starfire added.</p><p>Beast Boy blushed a darker green, unable to deny it. "Yeah…"</p><p>Jinx giggled. "He's cute. Can I keep him?"</p><p>Raven shook her head. "You did not just say that."</p><p>"Say what?" Beast Boy asked, mostly out of reflex.</p><p>Raven hesitated.</p><p>Jinx grinned. "Yeah, Raven. Say what?"</p><p>"Nothing," Raven said.</p><p>With a shrug, Beast Boy went back to his meal.</p><p>"<em>Chicken</em>," Jinx taunted her.</p><p>"Beef, actually," Raven said simply, taking another spoonful.</p><p>"This is gonna be fun," Jinx decided.</p><p>After they had all finished dinner, Beast Boy led the charge back to the couch for the movie. He sat next to Cyborg, while Robin and Starfire took the middle, his arm over her shoulders and her just as pleased to have it there. Raven took note of the very prominent open spot between them and herself.</p><p>"We…just sort of assumed…" Robin hedged, seeing that Raven had noticed the empty space.</p><p>Jinx wasted no time in happily filling it. "They're so nice," she said to Raven. "Such good friends."</p><p>"Thanks," Raven said, legitimately thankful but no less uncomfortable with the public acknowledgment.</p><p>The movie played. Cyborg and Beast Boy riffed in amateur Mystery Science Theater 3000 tradition. Robin and Starfire got more comfortable, and Jinx did the same: nestled right up against Raven's side, sighing contentedly.</p><p>At one point, in response to something in the film, Jinx leaned up and whispered into the empath's ear.</p><p>A drinking glass cracked on the counter.</p><p>"Gonna start a tab for y'all," Cyborg commented, eyes still on the movie.</p><p>"You…do realize I can <em>literally</em> put you out in the cold. Right?" Raven asked.</p><p>Jinx batted her eyes in a, 'Who? Me?' response. "But my will is your will," she feigned innocence.</p><p>"I'm doing everything I can do rein in <em>my </em>will," Raven countered. "This is all you."</p><p>Jinx gave a sly grin. "But…it's impossible to tell—or so I'm told."</p><p>With a sigh, Raven dropped the subject.</p><p>As the movie reached its third act, Cyborg and Beast Boy's banter had mostly tapered out. Robin had sunken deeper into the couch, his legs stretched out front with Starfire's head resting between his chest and shoulder.</p><p>Raven, however, had found herself only half paying attention to the film on display. Instead, her attention was drawn to a curious, latent tension that seemed to have sprung up after her inadvertent cracking of the glass on the counter.</p><p>It was minute. Hardly worth noticing, really. But she <em>had</em> noticed it, perhaps because of how unwelcomed a change it had been to the easy peacefulness whose place it had taken, or at least intruded upon.</p><p>She thought back, considering the short interaction. Jinx's state hadn't changed. Everyone else's had. Then, she wondered: had she done that?</p><p>True, she had so seldom expressed affection at all around the others—let alone the propensity for romantic feelings—that they had no measure, no standard by which to judge her interactions with Jinx. Jinx herself, of course, suffered no such problem. Their relationship, whatever it really was, had developed with exactly the kind of dry snark with which she had jokingly threatened to put her out in the cold.</p><p>An obvious joke, certainly. They had all recognized it as such. But could it also have caused their tension, like someone not quite sure whether it really <em>had</em> been all in fun or if he had found himself caught awkwardly in the middle of a backhanded spat?</p><p>An interesting supposition and, if true, a nuance to relationships that she hadn't before considered: that actions between her and Jinx, while innocent to the two of them, might easily put others less familiar with their norms in awkward or uncertain, tense situations, wholly inadvertently.</p><p>Was it something Robin and Starfire dealt with?</p><p>Had Raven been a victim of it herself at any point, perhaps equally clueless to it at the time?</p><p>Intrigued, she decided to test her theory.</p><p>Slowly at first, to give Jinx time to react accordingly, she lay down in a lounging position with her head propped up a bit by the arm of the couch. Pleased as a peach, and as on-cue as if she had memorized the script, Jinx lay down in front of her. Raven's arm rested overtop of her—to everyone else, very visibly resting midair.</p><p>The theory held true as the tension between the others quickly evaporated, without any of them so much as glancing over. It was, however, shortly replaced by surprise, largely pleasant, at the uncharacteristically affectionate display.</p><p>Truthfully, Raven <em>herself</em> found it uncomfortable, unfamiliar. Still, filing away her findings, she returned to the movie, satisfied both that the nagging tension was gone and that she had nudged the edge of her comfort zone.</p><p>Then, it got nudged again.</p><p>She felt pressure on her arm and saw that Jinx had taken it, perhaps even absentmindedly, holding it like a stuffed toy while she watched the movie.</p><p>Luckily, nothing broke.</p><p>When the movie ended, the hour had grown late. The group said goodnight, each of them going their separate ways until the following morning. Jinx followed Raven to her room, where the empath opted for a brief meditation before bed.</p><p>"What am I supposed to do?" Jinx half complained, as Raven took up her hovering lotus position.</p><p>"You could meditate," Raven offered.</p><p>Shrugging off the suggestion, Jinx left Raven to her ritual and decided to roam on her own. She scrunched her lips in annoyance, staring at the warning talisman in the hallway as it wafted and jingled in some otherworldly breeze.</p><p>They all did that. Of the set of talismans strewn about the tower, the ones meant to indicate her presence, while blocked by solid walls, all reacted as soon as she entered their range and <em>continued</em> to float as long as she stayed nearby—intentional, she was sure, to put the others at ease and help curb any…<em>voyeuristic</em> tendencies of her own.</p><p>Kinda sucked some of the fun out of invisibility, really.</p><p>She wandered back downstairs to the common room, warning talismans jingling to announce her presence each time she entered a new area. The temperature dropped the farther away she got, but not unbearably so. With no particular place in mind, she eventually found herself in Cyborg's garage, the metal man himself pouring on the midnight oil as he worked on his machine. The combination of music and his work had apparently masked the jingling of her warning bell. She stood in the doorway, unknown to the room's occupant, watching him.</p><p>It wasn't the first time she'd watched him.</p><p>Years before, she had watched Stone at the academy. Her crush hadn't been any big secret; she hadn't really tried to hide it. Now, though, it raised a few questions.</p><p>It hadn't been the same with Kid Flash. Kid had been an emotional thing, missing any kind of physical attraction. That had been the whole problem. But Stone, that had been exactly the opposite. His physique, his prowess, his performance—all totally physical.</p><p>That had been real. Hadn't it?</p><p>It must have been. As she watched him, even with the illusory appearance gone, part of her still felt it.</p><p>So…what did <em>that</em> mean?</p><p>That she was shallow. Or at least, that her libido was. That was probably normal, though. Like, a lot of people probably worked that way, or could. The bigger question was how <em>she</em> worked that way at all—with him, specifically.</p><p>Mammoth performed much the same way, boasted the same kind of physique, could even demonstrate the same prowess, now and then. But she hadn't ever felt anything at all for him.</p><p>So…if it wasn't muscle guys, or big guys, or genuine guys, what was her type, exactly? For guys.</p><p>She must've had one, somewhere.</p><p>What had set Stone apart, back then?</p><p>She raised her brow at the thought and the answer she had to admit: nothing, really. Super strength, nice body, his personality, none of them particularly uncommon in the circles they occupied.</p><p>An exception, she supposed. Usually, she liked girls—strong types, not girly types. But there could be exceptions. Right?</p><p>And then, the thought: did there have to be a <em>rule</em>?</p><p>That one gave her pause.</p><p>Some girls she liked. Some girls she didn't. Most guys she didn't. Maybe some she did. Did it have to be any more complicated?</p><p>She felt a tinge of annoyance, maybe even anger: why did she feel like she had to <em>justify</em> herself? And to whom, anyway?</p><p>Somewhere in the midst of her debate, Cyborg's work had quieted down enough for him to notice the bell.</p><p>"Hey," he said, still working on some kind of calculation, since he couldn't tell where exactly she was anyway. "Sorry. Didn't notice ya come in."</p><p>For a split second, Jinx opened her mouth to reply; then she deflated when she remembered it wouldn't matter.</p><p>"Glad ya dropped by, actually. Been meanin' to have a talk," he said. "I know you're in a weird place right now, so I won't lay it down too hard. But me and Raven, we been through a lot. All of us have. And Raven, she's like a little sister to me. Know where I'm goin' with this?"</p><p>Realizing that she could, in fact, contribute to this part of the conversation, Jinx passed her hand through the <em>yes</em> talisman, which jingled in response.</p><p>"Good," Cyborg said, setting his work aside to focus on his thoughts for a moment. "Truth be told, I think this is good for her. It's been nice, seein' her come outta her shell these last few years. I just don't wanna see her get hurt. She's powerful, probably more than any of us, and she's strong. A survivor. Ain't nobody arguin' that. But she's new at this. Vulnerable. Inexperienced. Just…treat her right. That's all I'm sayin'."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>"All right. I'm gonna get back to work." He put on a smile. "Pretty special somebody countin' on me figurin' this out—couple of somebodies."</p><p>Jinx took a step back, out of the room, and the warning talisman fell idle as Cyborg returned to work.</p><p>After a minute or so, Jinx left, still mulling over the metal man's words. Stuck in the haze of her thoughts, she found herself outside another room before she realized it, the door open and Beast Boy inside amid a hurricane of clothes and other debris. Lying on his bed, he held his communicator up in front of his face, staring at it. Instinctively, Jinx took a step forward to get a better look.</p><p>The warning talisman jingled.</p><p>Beast Boy jumped, startled, and closed his communicator.</p><p>He looked around uncertainly. "Um…hello?"</p><p>Displeased at her inability to snoop, Jinx nonetheless reached up and waggled the warning bell a little more.</p><p>"Hey…" Beast Boy said. "I, um… Come in…? I was just—" He seemed to fumble for an excuse, but then sighed instead. Taking out his communicator again, he opened it. "This is Terra," he said.</p><p>Invited, Jinx moved to look at the picture of the young woman's face displayed on the communicator.</p><p>"We were…kind of a thing, for a while," Beast Boy said. "But she, uh… She's not…with us, anymore."</p><p>Heart thoroughly wrenched by the funnyman's uncharacteristic sullenness, she sat alongside the bed. Joining Beast Boy in staring at the bright, smiling image, she found her mind occupied not as much on the woman herself as on how exactly she had come to <em>not be with them, anymore</em>. As she did, it became very apparent that she was not the only ghost in the room.</p><p>"Hey. Can I, uh…ask you something?" Beast Boy inquired, closing his communicator once again.</p><p>Standing up, Jinx moved back to the talismans and jingled <em>yes</em>.</p><p>Beast Boy looked away uncomfortably. "You and Raven. It isn't, like…a fling, or something. Right? Like, I didn't really get all the soul-y, will-y stuff before, so maybe this is stupid to ask, but…you're not just messing with her. Right?"</p><p>Suddenly put on the spot, Jinx did the best she could and answered to the best of her ability by jingling the <em>no</em> bell.</p><p>"Cool," Beast Boy said. "'Cuz, I mean…I'm the funny guy, and even I know how much it hurts to think you're getting close to somebody, and then… And Raven, she doesn't even really <em>do</em> relationships, y'know? So if she's giving it a shot, then she must really feel something." He smiled softly, looking down. "I'm glad." He chuckled. "Just be careful, okay? She can get some serious distance when she's mad. Think I almost made it to the other side of the bay, one time."</p><p>Unable to help herself, Jinx smiled too. She jingled the <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>Beast Boy gave a slow nod, one of finality. "Cool. Well, I don't mean to be rude, but…I think I'm gonna go to bed. It was nice talking to you."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>Jinx stepped back, and Beast Boy watched the warning talisman fall lifelessly. Then, he closed his door.</p><p>Curious now, Jinx drew upon what memories of the tower she could muster and made her way to Starfire's room. Her door, however, was closed. Jinx passed her head through to peek and found the Tameranean on her bed, brushing her hair.</p><p>Starfire's face lit at the jingling of the warning bell. "Friend!" She whirled around, then lost some enthusiasm. "You…are here, yes? It was not merely the wind?"</p><p>Passing wholly into the room, Jinx jingled the <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>Starfire swooped over, considering afterward. "I…do not know where you are. Still, we may talk! I have so many questions concerning how you and friend Raven came to—" She considered again. "And…you cannot answer." Gradually, her feet sank down to the ground. "But…even so! <em>I</em> may talk, and you may respond where you are able!"</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>"Glorious!" Starfire proclaimed, spinning once in place. "Oh, truly. When you are returned to your body, I will have many questions. Are you well?"</p><p>Jinx kind of…shrugged to herself, a little bit. She jingled the <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>"Most welcomed news," Starfire said, returning to sit alongside her bed; she patted a spot nearby, offering it to her guest. "Oh," she realized. "I suppose you must remain near the bells. Yes?"</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>"My apologies. It is…quite strange, entertaining a guest who I cannot see. I imagine it is difficult for you, as well."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>"Do not worry. I am sure friend Cyborg will do all he can to ready his machine as quickly as possible."</p><p>Jinx smiled in agreement; she knew he would. Probably he didn't know how <em>not</em> to.</p><p>She paused. Was that it? What set him apart. Caring about people? Stone hadn't, but she supposed that could've just been a crush, some stupid adolescent thing. But whatever she still felt, she did still feel something. And Cyborg sure cared. So had Kid Flash.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>"I said that I will have many questions when you are returned to your body," Starfire continued. "That is true. But for now, I will begin with this one: you find Raven attractive. Yes?"</p><p>Interest piqued, Jinx jingled the <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>Starfire giggled. "That is good. You have told her this?"</p><p>Jinx thought back. Then, after a few seconds, she jingled the <em>no</em> bell, somewhat disheartened. Everything had happened so naturally, so spontaneously, and then so quickly after that, she really hadn't ever actually <em>said</em> that. Implied it, maybe, but never said it.</p><p>"I see," Starfire said. "Friend Raven has indicated that you shared an intimate experience. In light of that, I understand if this may seem unnecessary, but I wish to ask something of you."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>Starfire's smile shrank to one gentle and small. "My people are taught to embrace ourselves: our bodies, our feelings, to be proud of who we are. I have tried for many years to help Raven to do the same, but she is…humble…and has difficulty accepting compliments of any kind, especially those regarding her appearance." She looked up toward the talismans where she imagined Jinx was standing. "Please, tell Raven that she is beautiful. From us, it would not matter. I have tried. But she deserves to hear it from someone she will believe, in a moment when she will believe it."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled again, and Starfire smiled a little more.</p><p>"Thank you," she said. "Since Robin confessed his feelings for me, he and I have been most happy. I wish such happiness for all my friends, including for you and Raven. It is…different, when he compliments me out there, and when he compliments me in here, where only he and I can hear. Truthful. Sincere. A warm, wondrous feeling. Sadly, we cannot give that to her—but perhaps you can."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell jingled.</p><p>"Again, I thank you," Starfire said. "Thank you also for speaking with me." She giggled again. "Even if it is not by choice, you are a most excellent listener. I wish you a good night, and I shall greet you in the morning."</p><p>Jinx jingled the <em>yes</em> bell one more time before taking her leave.</p><p>One left to complete the set, she made for the boy wonder himself. She found his door open, Robin himself typing away at a computer terminal inside.</p><p>"Glad you're here. We need to talk," he said.</p><p>At first, used to the setup by this point, Jinx hadn't thought anything of the acknowledgment. Only after, however, did she notice that she hadn't yet entered the room—or set off the warning talisman. Her brow furrowed questioningly.</p><p>Robin stopped in his work and swiveled in his chair to face the door, fingers folded and one eyebrow raised. "Do you really wanna know?"</p><p>Grumbling off Robin's sometimes uncanny resemblance to his former mentor, Jinx merely stepped inside and swatted the <em>no</em> bell.</p><p>He sported a brief smirk, then returned to business. Taking another wheeled chair that seemed to have no other earthly purpose in the room, he pushed it over toward the talismans. "Have a seat."</p><p>Jinx complied.</p><p>"Am I the first person you've talked to?"</p><p>The <em>no</em> bell.</p><p>"Am I the last?"</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>"Okay. So I can assume you've got a pretty good idea of how we all feel."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>"Good. Now, let me make this clear, because you and I are going to have a different conversation: nothing I'm going to say in any way contradicts anything else you've heard. We care about Raven. We care about you. We're supportive—myself included. And while I can't and won't speak for anyone else, I respect what you've done in turning your life around and would bet money I'm not the only one. All that said, here's something you probably haven't heard yet tonight: Raven is dangerous."</p><p>Jinx straightened up some, caught somewhere between surprised and, almost, offended.</p><p>"That's not an insult. Ask her, and she'll tell you herself. You know there's magic involved. But how much do you actually know about how Raven's powers work?"</p><p>Robin waited, and so did Jinx, unsure of how to respond to something that didn't allow for a simple <em>yes</em> or <em>no</em>. Eventually, she settled on the best she could do and jingled the <em>no</em> bell.</p><p>Robin picked right back up again, as though he had anticipated she would stumble over the response and had been ready for it. "Raven's powers are driven by her emotions, but it's more complicated than that."</p><p>Jinx rolled her eyes at the word that seemed to follow Raven like an aura: <em>complicated</em>.</p><p>"People like Starfire have abilities that are <em>connected</em> to their emotions. If she wants strength, she feels one thing. If she wants starbolts, she feels something else. Flight, something else. Each ability tied to a different emotion. Raven's powers are <em>driven</em> by hers. Think. Has there ever been a time when she asked you to do something, or to stop doing it, that didn't quite seem to make sense?"</p><p>Raven's face appeared in Jinx's memory, looking up at her from below, flushed and saying they needed to stop.</p><p>"Courage, fear, anger, hate—they all draw on the same power and only serve to control how much of it is released. For Raven, being too happy is just as dangerous as being consumed by rage. While one might be more likely than the other, they both have the same explosive potential."</p><p>Jinx's stomach tightened at the look Robin gave then, his eyes narrow slits beneath the mask, his mouth a hard line and his jaw set, deadly serious.</p><p>"You know who I am. You know who I worked with, and you know who he works with. Know this: Raven may very well be the most powerful being I have ever met, and so as good as she is and as hard as she works, there will <em>always</em> be a danger there. She knows that. We know that. You need to know it, too."</p><p>Jinx relaxed some when Robin's body language softened.</p><p>"Since she beat back her father, she's been making an effort to be more in tune with her emotions, but it's a process: learning not just <em>how</em> to feel but how to feel safely, familiarizing herself with each emotion, its levels of intensity, and the amounts of power each of those brings to the table. But she's trying. And if what she says happened really did happen—and I have no reason to believe it didn't—then she's willing to try with <em>you</em>."</p><p>Her heart fluttered a bit.</p><p>"That's both a compliment and an endorsement—pretty huge ones, coming from Raven. But for you, it's also a responsibility. Raven doesn't do things on a whim. She commits. She'll work with you, do her best to extend her comfort zone as she acclimates to new feelings. But you can't push her," Robin said very clearly. "Help her. Guide her. Ask her. But <em>don't</em>…push her. Do you understand?"</p><p>Jinx jingled the <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>Robin seemed to soften even more. "Sorry to be so serious. But it is a serious issue. She's come a long way, and I think this is a good step, provided you don't push her into something she isn't ready for. For what it's worth, I don't think you will. Raven trusts you, so I trust her with you. But we had to have this conversation."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>"I'm glad you agree. Also, don't forget: you aren't alone. We're all behind you. Now, since I have you, there's something else I'd like to discuss. When you get your body back, I assume you'll want to be nearby. So if you don't want to find a place in the city, let me know. We've got plenty of spare rooms."</p><p>The <em>yes</em> bell again.</p><p>"Well, from what I understand, your feelings may change once you're back in one piece. If you're still interested then, we'll get you set up. You've got experience working with a team already, experience in leadership—it shouldn't be a problem. So. Is there anything you need?"</p><p>The <em>no </em>bell.</p><p>"All right, then. In that case, I'm glad we talked, but I should get back to work. Between dinner, the movie, and getting those talismans up, I haven't had a chance to file a report today. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow."</p><p>As Robin did just that, Jinx rose from her seat and vacated the room. Her head swimming in all the talks she'd had that night, Jinx headed to the common room for some air, or space, or…something.</p><p>She walked up to the window and just stood there, mulling over it all. She just…couldn't process it. Not really.</p><p>Her whole life, everyone she'd met, everyone she'd worked with, everyone she'd ever known or lived with or looked up to—nobody had cared that much. And it hadn't been <em>forced</em>. Like, not at all. They hadn't said all that because they felt like they had to, out of some sense of obligation or duty or requirement or because anybody expected them to or because any of them had anything to gain, no. They'd just <em>said</em> it. Because they'd wanted to.</p><p>Because they cared.</p><p>She understood then, more deeply and perfectly than she ever had before, the difference between heroes and villains: heroes cared.</p><p>No. Good people did.</p><p>That kind of support…</p><p>That kind of connection…</p><p>Suddenly it wasn't such a mystery anymore, how Raven had managed to overcome her heritage. With people like that behind her, pulling for her, cheering her on, picking her up, how could she fail?</p><p>Surreal.</p><p>Absolutely surreal.</p><p>One of them had lost his body, struggled with his <em>humanity</em>. One had lost someone. One was living on an alien planet, and one was…well, Robin, whatever that meant. Every motivation, every justification to be selfish and self-centered that anyone could've ever asked for, every excuse in the book to hold a non-stop pity party, shut people out, and not give a damn about a world that didn't seem to give one about them.</p><p>And none of it mattered.</p><p>All of it, boxed up and tossed out to be there for her. To make sure <em>she</em> was okay.</p><p>Just…surreal.</p><p>For a few minutes of self-indulgent whimsy, Jinx found herself put in Raven's place, in her life with her friends, imagining what it might've meant, how it might've been different.</p><p>Then it occurred to her: all that concern, it hadn't <em>just</em> been for Raven.</p><p>They cared about her, too. Maybe not as much, but a little. Enough to say so. A start.</p><p>That connection, that support, as if a door had swung open in her mind, she considered for the first time—really believed—she could have it, too.</p><p>She winced at the thought.</p><p>She could've had it before. Maybe. If she'd let them, Kid Flash and the others. But she hadn't…gotten the same <em>vibe</em> from them, hadn't connected.</p><p>She hadn't tried.</p><p>Probably she still wouldn't have tried, had her situation not forced her to shut up and listen. Or maybe being invisible had made it easier for them to open up, or her thing with Raven, or with Cyborg, or both. Or just her history, with all of them. More than she'd had with Kid Flash or any of his circle, she had history with the Titans. This group.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>Lots of maybes.</p><p>Outside, lots of stars.</p><p>With a sigh, she put her thoughts aside.</p><p>Not long after, she left the common room, headed back upstairs.</p><p>On her way, she passed by Starfire's room again and stopped reflexively at a very particular sound.</p><p>Just like that, her depth dried up and her Cheshire grin resurfaced, and she skulked closer to the door and the intimate sounds beyond. With a quick, side-to-side glance as though anyone could see her anyway, she prepared to pass through the door—not far enough to set off the warning talisman, hopefully, but enough to get an eyeful.</p><p>And promptly found herself several feet in the air above Raven's bed.</p><p>She fell to the mattress with a <em>pomf</em> and blinked twice, then focused her attention irately on the empath still hovering nearby. "Ah, <em>c'mon</em>!"</p><p>Raven peeked one eye open. "Hm?"</p><p>"Oh, don't gimme that," Jinx accused, scrambling in a huff to the edge of the bed. "Ya couldn't give me one? Just one?"</p><p>"Sorry," Raven said.</p><p>"No you're not," Jinx groused.</p><p>"No, I'm not," Raven admitted. "Unless you count babysitting Casper the Pervy Ghost."</p><p>Jinx smirked. "Disembodied soul."</p><p>"Whatever."</p><p>"I'm told there's a difference," Jinx said.</p><p>Raven touched down and stretched lightly. A black spark arced in the air nearby, although thankfully didn't break anything, when Jinx caught her by surprise and held her from behind. Blindsided, Raven didn't react at all, simply let it happen.</p><p>Then, Jinx let go and sat back down. "They really care about you," she said, all humor aside and suddenly sounding rather small.</p><p>Raven offered a fledgling smile. "They're my family."</p><p>Without saying anything more, Jinx lay down on the bed. Raven followed, and they took their usual position with her facing up and Jinx close by. This time, however, Jinx took Raven's wrist and rolled over, pulling the empath along into a spooning position.</p><p>Raven felt Jinx's snarky demeanor give way to isolation, which Raven had expected, but more than that, loneliness, which she somewhat hadn't. Not…separated loneliness, as <em>might</em> have been expected of one cut off from the world the way that Jinx was, but of…something else. Something more individualized, more personal.</p><p>So, unfamiliar with the act itself, but familiar enough with the nature and the intent of it, Raven allowed herself to be maneuvered into position, if that was what Jinx wanted.</p><p>She slid one arm underneath Jinx's pillow to keep it out of the way, while Jinx held the other draped over her body and wriggled closer.</p><p>"Tighter," Jinx said quietly, and Raven obliged by tightening her hold.</p><p>The act seemed to ease Jinx's mind, at least somewhat, and although Raven could only assume whatever had come over her had done so because of something she had realized or experience during her nighttime travels, she did not question it. Perhaps there would come a time for questions, but not now.</p><p>For now, later had come. As Raven had suspected, Jinx was seeking comfort, and she would freely give it.</p><p>And so, they slept.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Unto the Breach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raven loosed a humid sigh as Jinx worked her way from her lips to one side of her jaw and then down to her neck, biting down just the way she had before—although perhaps a bit harder this time, more impassioned, more sure. The same guttural groan worked its way up from somewhere deep inside the empath, but this time, rather than shy away, she gave herself fully to the urge that grew in scope and urgency.</p><p>One hand beside her head, pinned down at the wrist by her pink-haired partner, the other came to rest on the back of Jinx's head, holding her where she was, pulling her down, encouraging her to bite harder. She did, and Raven seethed approval. As Jinx allowed herself to be more forceful, Raven let her hand feel its way down her neck, her side, her back to below her waist and squeezed without any thought at all, acting wholly on impulse as she succumbed to that urge and cut its leash completely.</p><p>Raven threw them over, putting herself on top and wasting no time in repaying Jinx's attentions. She kissed, reveling in the sensation of Jinx's hands freely exploring her form, feeling and touching, grabbing and groping wherever she pleased. The urge pulsed, as hard as it ever had, Raven's vision briefly fuzzy and unfocused even though her eyes remained closed. One arm slid up behind Jinx's head, taking a handful of hair roughly and drawing her head back with a quick, quiet cry.</p><p>A moan accompanied Raven's mouth finding her neck in reciprocation, her body shivering and twisting beneath the empath as Raven latched on and bit down. The act, something about it—the suction, the taste of the flesh, the physical, dominant satisfaction the harder down she clamped her jaws—stoked a warmth in Raven's chest that quickly ignited into a fire that had her breathing heavily through her nose and losing herself in the cocktail of emotions swirling and reacting between them.</p><p>Jinx groaned with a pained grimace, squirming some in an attempt to loosen Raven's grip, who tightened her hold on the girl's hair in response.</p><p>Without a thought and before Jinx could struggle further, Raven asserted her ownership of the soul in question and banished the unwelcomed emotion that had so intruded on her snowballing passion: no more hurting. Pain, pleasure, both the same—and she bit harder, rolling them back again, dragging Jinx on top and locking her arms over her shoulders to hold her there.</p><p>Jinx's expression changed, eyes alternating between worry and blurry ecstasy, at once keenly aware that something was wrong and too bombarded by impossible sensations at the utter and instantaneous conversion to focus. Her mouth hung open, her brow knit and tense, as she fell into an unthinking haze, unable and unwilling to resist.</p><p>As her partner spiraled into a pleasurable abyss, Raven drank in the emotional waves that rolled off and into her, spurring her on. From moans to groans to growls, she ramped up in intensity, <em>raking</em> her nails down Jinx's back with zero restraint and every modicum of force her urges desired.</p><p>Blue-white light flickered and roiled against the ceiling from the gashes left behind, Jinx's jaw quivering in wonder and horror. Her throat choked closed several times as if in drowning, and she relaxed, shivering, against Raven's body.</p><p>Suddenly and thoroughly wrenched from her nirvana at the realization of what she'd done, Raven sobered in an instant; she set about in a trembling panic to undo the damage she had done, but for all her desperation, Jinx's form continued to destabilize and deteriorate. She twitched, her eyes glassing over as she evaporated slowly into that blue-white light, and, with a ghostly sigh, was gone.</p><p>Raven shot up in bed with a start, panting and sweating, her heart pounding frantically in her chest.</p><p>Jinx sprang up beside her out of reflex, groggy and incoherent. She looked around and found Raven. "Huh…?"</p><p>After a few moments, Raven allowed herself to relax back down. "Sorry. Nightmare."</p><p>"No kiddin'…" Jinx lay back down as well, never having been totally awake to begin with. Seconds later, she was out again.</p><p>Raven, however, took somewhat longer to nod off.</p><p>___</p><p>When she woke next, Raven found herself unexpectedly alone. Propping herself up on one arm, she found Jinx at the mirror—not her portal, but her actual wall mirror—idly passing one hand through it and pulling it out again.</p><p>Jinx glanced over when Raven moved. "Hey."</p><p>"Hey…" Raven sat up in earnest. "What, uh…?"</p><p>"Oh, y'know. Just…doin' the ghost thing, bein' bored…"</p><p>"You could've stayed sleeping," Raven pointed out. "Or gone—I don't know—spy on someone while <em>I</em> was sleeping."</p><p>Jinx shrugged. "Spy on what? Bird Boy makin' coffee? Cyborg snorin'? Ya realize it's, like…way-too-friggin'-early o'clock. Right?"</p><p>Raven swiveled to sit alongside the bed, stretching lightly. "Which brings me back to, 'You could've stayed sleeping.'"</p><p>"Eh. Not as nice when ya don't dream. Kinda sucks the fun out of it." Jinx paused in toying with the mirror. "Speakin' of, sounded like <em>you</em> had enough dream for both of us. Care to share?"</p><p>"Not really," Raven declined.</p><p>"Pff, <em>lame</em>. Wake me up with your midnight freak-out, the least ya could do is spill the juicy details," Jinx complained.</p><p>"I'd really rather not."</p><p>"But, <em>Mom</em>!" Jinx whined in her most childlike fashion, stamping her foot.</p><p>Raven scrunched her lips in annoyance, but looked down regardless in consideration. Even if not thrilled with the notion, she found herself forced to admit that divulging the contents of her nightmare might have gone a long way in explaining her insistence on a lack of intimacy. Still, not before she was properly awake.</p><p>"Maybe later," Raven decided. "So, <em>about</em> last night. You seemed…affected…when you got back. Care to share?" she mimicked Jinx's words in her monotone.</p><p>"Just…talkin'," Jinx said.</p><p>"And how'd that go?" Raven asked, mostly idly, as she brushed her hair, much less a chore than Starfire's.</p><p>Jinx considered, weighing her options about where to start. One didn't have much to ask about. Another she would worry about later. That left two. Finally, she chose. "Who's Terra?"</p><p>Raven's hand paused in its work. "Beast Boy?"</p><p>"Had a picture," Jinx affirmed.</p><p>Raven set down her brush, planning her words carefully. "Terra was…a friend."</p><p>"Uh-huh, yeah. Got that, thanks. Little more than a friend, I'm guessin'. To him, anyway."</p><p>Somewhat reluctant—not due to any great secrecy surrounding the matter, but more a general dislike toward talking about it—Raven recounted Terra's story, brief but sincere. "When we found her, she had no memory of her old life. Repressed or removed, I can't be certain, but that she wasn't lying when she said she couldn't remember, I am sure."</p><p>"So?" Jinx asked, almost irked by the lousy ending to the tale. "Haul her in for some kinda brain probe or mind meld or whatever and find out."</p><p>Raven's only response was a look, as if to indicate that even <em>Jinx</em> knew for how many reasons kidnapping a person and forcefully poking around in her brain wasn't an option. "Even if she <em>could</em> remember. Would you want to? Used by Slade. Not only betrayed her new family but led an army against us. Destroyed Beast Boy." A few seconds ticked by. "She's happy. That's enough."</p><p>"Her, maybe. But what about him?" Jinx argued.</p><p>Raven thought about it, about the options, the possibilities; then, her shoulders fell slightly. "I think…he wouldn't be happy either way. I've felt it before, when he looks at that picture. It isn't <em>Terra</em> he misses. It's the memory of her. Not just who she was, but who she could've been. What <em>they</em> could've been. Bringing her back now wouldn't fix that. If she showed up today, I think it would be an awkward conversation, maybe a desperate attempt to pick up where they left off, but…it would always be damaged. It would never be what he remembered, and once he let himself realize that, it wouldn't last. That's what I think."</p><p>"That's stupid." Jinx sat down on the bed with a petulant huff.</p><p>"Maybe. Sometimes…sadness isn't something broken that can be fixed. Sometimes it's just…a recipe that went wrong. You can dress up the result, add salt or spices to try to make it work, but…well…sometimes it's not so bad. Other times I cook breakfast."</p><p>"Still stupid," Jinx said, then spared a glance at Raven. "Story behind that, I bet."</p><p>Raven chuckled softly, and then stood up and left for the bathroom. A quick shower and morning routine later, and she returned. When she left for her morning tea, Jinx followed. In the kitchen section of the common area, they found Robin alone with his coffee and the paper.</p><p>"Good morning," Raven greeted, floating over to prepare her tea.</p><p>"Raven," Robin greeted with a quick glance in Jinx's direction. "Jinx."</p><p>Jinx grumbled.</p><p>"Problem?" Raven asked.</p><p>"Did that last night, too," Jinx said. "Knew I was there before I even set off the stupid bell."</p><p>Wheels turned in Raven's mind. "Robin and I share a particularly powerful psychic connection. It's possible he's learned to tap into it and sense your presence. Although, to accomplish that in less than a day is…impressive, even for him." She eyed Robin curiously.</p><p>The boy wonder merely sipped his coffee, hiding his smirk behind the cup.</p><p>Jinx narrowed her eyes at him. "Smug little… Seriously, who reads the paper anymore? You have a T.V. bigger than a bed! Use it!"</p><p>"Have a good night?" Robin asked.</p><p>"Serviceable," Raven replied. "You?"</p><p>Jinx scoffed, recalling both the end to her wanderings the night before and the old H.I.V.E. data that had indicated Starfire was usually an early riser. "Red's still asleep. Ain't she?"</p><p>"Not bad," Robin concurred. "Jinx and I had a nice conversation."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>Robin nodded. "About your powers, your emotions, how they operate. The basics."</p><p>"Prudent," Raven said.</p><p>"I thought so," Robin agreed.</p><p>"Sleep well?" Raven asked as more of a jab at, as Jinx had noted, the fact that Starfire hadn't yet awoken.</p><p>Robin nodded again. "For the most part. I had the weirdest dream," he said.</p><p>Raven's cup split in half. "Did you?" she asked, betraying nothing with her tone.</p><p>"You're running out of cups," Robin observed.</p><p>"I buy in bulk." Raven swept the pieces into the trash and retrieved a new one.</p><p>"What about you?" Robin asked, putting the ball back into play. "Sleep well?"</p><p>Raven removed the teapot when it whistled, pouring it into her cup. "For the most part."</p><p>Robin put down his paper, quitting the game. "Is everything all right?"</p><p>"I had a nightmare," Raven said. "I'm fine. It's understandable, given what happened and what's on my mind."</p><p>"What is on your mind?" Robin asked, more genuine than accusatory.</p><p>Raven held her hands near her cup, enjoying the heat as it steeped. For a fleeting moment, she considered making a pass at lying, glossing over the truth and just letting it be. But although he possessed no empathic abilities himself, Robin easily rivaled her ability to discern the truth, perhaps even surpassed it.</p><p>"I've never…considered…starting a relationship before," Raven said. "Most of the feelings involved, I…haven't explored. I don't know how to handle them, or the extent of what dangers they might represent. Like I said: I'm fine. It was just on my mind."</p><p>Robin held his gaze a few moments more, whether in legitimate scrutiny or some psychological tactic only he could be certain. Then, he took another sip of coffee. "You need to set limits," he offered honestly. "When I started seeing Starfire, she was <em>much</em> more comfortable with certain things than I was. We talked. Set limits. Moved slowly."</p><p>"We have," Raven assured him.</p><p>"Good," Robin said. "And you're…satisfied with them?"</p><p>"I am," Raven affirmed.</p><p>"All right, then." Robin picked up the paper again, and an early-morning quiet settled in between them.</p><p>"<em>Jesus</em>," Jinx said from the sidelines. "Are your mornings always this tense?"</p><p>His cup seemingly emptied by the next sip, Robin got up to pour himself another.</p><p>Jinx sneered. "Cream and <em>sugar</em>?" she mocked sweetly.</p><p>"Black," Robin said casually.</p><p>Both Jinx and Raven stopped cold.</p><p>As Jinx's brow furrowed in disbelief and her mouth drew open to speak, the door opened.</p><p>"Mornin', ya'll." Cyborg walked in with a yawn.</p><p>"Coffee?" Robin asked him.</p><p>"Yeah, been a long night," Cyborg said.</p><p>With a lingering look at their leader, Raven raised her cup to her mouth and blew lightly.</p><p>"How do you <em>live</em> with that?" Jinx asked her, incredulous.</p><p>Raven sipped her tea.</p><p>"Hear me, ya spikey little traffic light?" Jinx practically shouted at him. "If I wanted head games, I'd listen to the<em> song</em>!"</p><p>"Any progress?" Robin asked.</p><p>"Yeah, actually," Cyborg said. "More than I thought. I was in a hurry last time, so I spent most of the night reinforcin' the casings for the wiring and the heat dissipation system. Won't fry itself the next time we flip the switch. Once I got it online, I found traces of Raven's energy still present wherever they were."</p><p>"The creatures," Robin surmised.</p><p>"I'm guessin'," Cyborg agreed. "They're fadin' quick, but thanks to them, I could get a lock on where we need to be. I figure we wait 'em out till their energy runs dry and they disappear. Then we get in and get it done. Today."</p><p>In many ways, Raven had found emotions in other people to function similarly to chemistry, or alchemy: two parts this, one part that, in this order and prepared in that way. This case, in particular, she had come to understand very well: one part shock, four parts surprise, two parts doubt and one part fear, blended smoothly until skeptical. A very common mixture among people.</p><p>"That's a good thing, in case you missed it," Raven pointed out to Jinx.</p><p>"I know that!" she snapped indignantly. "I'm just—"</p><p>"Skeptical because you aren't used to things going well without some kind of karmic reprisal or punchline, making it difficult for you to accept good news at face value until you find out what's going to 'go wrong,'" Raven said. She sipped her tea.</p><p>Jinx let out a breath, thoroughly deflated. "Yeah."</p><p>As if rehearsed, Raven raised a single finger, very pointedly, and then pointed it at Cyborg, who smiled broadly.</p><p>"Well, ain't nothin' to worry about this time. Ya got <em>me</em> in your corner. And when I say it's gonna work, it's gonna work—and, oh yeah, it's gonna work." Cyborg took his coffee and headed for the door, back to work. "So get you're ghostin' in now, little lady, 'cause assumin' Raven can <em>put</em> ya back as quick as I <em>got</em> ya back, we'll have ya home in time for dinner."</p><p>"I'll get Star," Robin said, leaving his cup on the counter. "Cyborg, get Beast Boy."</p><p>Cyborg chuckled as they parted ways in the hallway; his voice carried back into the common area. "Aw, yeah. Gonna <em>enjoy</em> this…"</p><p>"Well," Jinx pondered aloud, left alone with Raven and her tea, "<em>that</em> escalated quickly."</p><p>"In a good way," Raven noted.</p><p>"Guess…so, yeah…" Jinx was forced to admit. "So much for a week, or whatever."</p><p>"Give it time. You'll get used to your plans working out, now that you've switched sides."</p><p>"Hero thing?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"Hero thing," Raven said.</p><p>"Cool perk."</p><p>"It is." Finishing her tea more quickly than she normally would have, Raven washed her cup and put it away. "If you'll excuse me, I need to meditate. I'll need to focus a lot of energy to put you back."</p><p>"Sure— Hey, wait."</p><p>Raven paused.</p><p>"I, uh… That nightmare…"</p><p>"Yes?" Raven asked.</p><p>"It's just…with the tea cup, I've only ever seen ya do that when I was bein', y'know… So what was your nightmare…about?"</p><p>Raven considered her options.</p><p>She could minimalize, probably the safest route but also the most condescending and, if she was honest, disrespectful.</p><p>She could explain.</p><p>Or…</p><p>"Do you really want to know?" she asked.</p><p>"Uh…yeah?" Jinx replied, like she'd missed the joke somewhere.</p><p>"Okay." Raven sat down on the floor, gesturing for Jinx to do the same.</p><p>She complied, sitting directly across from the empath.</p><p>"Robin said he told you the basics, which means you know that my emotions don't control my powers. They fuel them. Here's what he probably didn't tell you."</p><p>Over the next few minutes, Raven explained the total compartmentalization of her emotions: how, until only recently in her life, her default state had been to feel nothing at all, for anyone, out of necessity, and how she had made an effort to change that following her father's defeat and her subsequent freedom.</p><p>"Some of my emotions are more easily experimented with than others," Raven continued, "taken in bite-sized pieces, shallow waters into which I can dip my foot a little at a time. Others aren't. Others are more powerful, amplified by what I am into enormous reservoirs not only ignored but repressed, for a <em>lifetime</em>. These cannot be experimented with in increments. To allow myself to experience them at all is to be submerged in a <em>deluge</em> of urges and desires I don't know how to process, manage, or control. That…brings us to my nightmare."</p><p>"Okay…" Jinx bade Raven to go on.</p><p>Raven took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm going to show you. Everything you think, everything you feel, will be what I thought, what I felt. You will experience the dream, the thoughts and the feelings it evoked exactly as I did. When it's over, don't say anything. Give yourself a minute to digest what you're about to experience in the context of what I just said. Are you ready?"</p><p>"I…guess?"</p><p>Raven touched her hands to either side of Jinx's head. "I apologize. This will be a little…graphic."</p><p>After a few seconds of preparation, Raven recalled her dream, in every vivid detail, and allowed Jinx to experience it herself. Even as she let it play through, Raven again found herself disturbed by it and its myriad implications.</p><p>Fortunately, for as much as they sometimes encompassed, dreams acted much like compressed information: they took, in reality, much less time than the dreamer seemed to experience. In a matter of seconds, the dream concluded; Jinx flinched back a bit, visibly shaken.</p><p>"<em>Holy</em> sh—"</p><p>Raven cut her off with a raised hand.</p><p>Jinx's eyes darted briefly about, back and forth, processing. Then, they locked on Raven. "All right… Not…exactly what I expected…" she prompted the empath, uncertain but willing to listen.</p><p>Raven didn't blink, but spoke very clearly. "What you just saw was a nightmare. Not a fact. Not an event. A frightening tapestry woven from the darkest what-ifs of my mind. None of that is a guarantee, but it <em>is</em> my fear. Apart from abusing my power over you, the danger you just witnessed—the realization of it as a possibility—was what brought me back to my senses in the cave."</p><p>"We have to stop," Jinx said absentmindedly, remembering that night.</p><p>Raven gave a nod. "I…lost control. Lost myself. As an empath, I was feeding off your emotions. When you felt good, I felt good. When I hurt you, it hurt me, so I…used my dominion over you to alter the way you perceived pain, so that <em>everything</em> felt good. After that, the path of least resistance was… Pleasure is complicated. Pain is…easy, and powerful… I sundered your <em>soul</em>, which would have been excruciating, except you didn't feel it that way…"</p><p>Jinx said nothing, replaying the dream in her mind, the same flurry of passion that had overtaken them that first night—except different this time. Stronger. Her heart fluttered at the memory, the ecstasy, like a drug teetering her just at the edge, right on the brink, clouding out all sense of judgment or consideration in the single-minded pursuit of <em>more</em>.</p><p>"Normally…hurting you would hurt me, which would keep me grounded even if I wasn't thinking clearly. But your situation puts me in a unique position to abuse my power and remove that limiter."</p><p>Jinx let herself marvel at the memory, of being so completely eclipsed: the manifestation, the avatar of pure, undiluted emotion to whom rationality, thought and care of any kind were foreign languages and whose only native tongue was raw feeling. A body acting entirely on impulse, chasing greater and greater highs with reckless abandon and utter disregard for cost or consequence.</p><p>Jinx swallowed. "What you're sayin' is…you're so into me you're afraid ya might lose your mind."</p><p>In what she believed <em>had</em> been a serious moment, Raven smiled, then failed to hold in a snicker. "That…is possibly the best thing you could've taken from that."</p><p>Jinx smirked. "<em>So</em>…the neck-bitin' thing… Pretty into it, huh?"</p><p>Raven flicked her eyes away, pulling up her hood to hide her blush.</p><p>Jinx's grin widened. "Nice. All in all, pretty hot. Y'know, up to that <em>one</em> part."</p><p>"Glad you think so." Raven stood up.</p><p>"Hey," Jinx said from the floor, halting Raven again. "Thanks. For showin' me that. I know ya didn't have to. Coulda just told me, or whatever. Probably wasn't the easiest thing to let me, y'know…see it. To let me in like that."</p><p>"I…need to meditate." Raven resumed her exit.</p><p>Jinxed swiveled on the floor, hands holding her ankles to keep her legs folded while she craned her neck back and her smile stared upside-down at the empath; she giggled. "Aw! She <em>does</em> do embarrassed!"</p><p>As Raven hung a left through the door, from the right hallway came the distant sound of blaring warning sirens, followed by the startled cries of a stable of animals.</p><p>***</p><p>An hour later, the entire group, save Raven, had convened in Cyborg's workshop; the bell jingled, talisman wafting idly as Jinx watched.</p><p>"Okay," Cyborg said, fiddling with calibrations. "It looks like the energy traces are gone."</p><p>"Then…the creatures are no longer there?" Starfire asked.</p><p>"Hopefully," Cyborg replied.</p><p>Beast Boy gulped. "So, uh…I don't mean to be a downer or anything, but what if they're…y'know…not."</p><p>"We avoid," Robin said, very deliberately. "Raven said they're slow. Probably can't fly. You take Cyborg and Star'll take me. We'll keep airborne, get where we need to go, get Jinx and get out. And remember: <em>don't</em> touch them."</p><p>"Right…" Beast Boy fidgeted nervously.</p><p>"The portal should be stable this time," Cyborg told them. "I'll be keepin' a miniature wormhole open to communicate with the terminal remotely. When we're ready to go, I should be able to trigger it myself. Give us five hours. Should be enough time to get where we're goin', assumin' we show up somewhere near where ya'll left. If we're not back by then, get Raven and tell her to hit the big, red button."</p><p>Jinx jingled the <em>yes</em> bell.</p><p>"Everyone ready?" Robin asked.</p><p>The team assembled alongside him in response.</p><p>"Here goes nothin'." Cyborg opened the control panel on one arm, pressed a few keys and then one more.</p><p>The portal snapped to life in response, blue and with its foreboding hum.</p><p>Cyborg first and Robin last, the group stepped through.</p><p>"Bird Boy," Jinx said.</p><p>Robin lingered.</p><p>"Be careful."</p><p>With a sharp nod over his shoulder, Robin joined the others, and the portal closed behind him.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Awake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blue light consumed Robin's vision as he passed through the portal and set foot on the other side; the ground crunched beneath him. Illuminated by Cyborg's shoulder light and Starfire's hands, he looked down, then out, and then around at the scorched, windswept wastes, exactly as Raven had described.</p><p>"Guess Raven wasn't kiddin'," Cyborg remarked with distaste.</p><p>Beast Boy shivered in the breeze while Starfire let her light fade, battle-readiness giving way to curiosity.</p><p>"My apologies, but I do not wish to stay in this place any longer than is necessary." She turned her gaze up and out into the starless void. "I find it…most unsettling."</p><p>"Agreed. Cyborg?" Robin turned to the metal man.</p><p>Cyborg held out his arm, scanning as he turned in place. "Gettin' faint electromagnetic signals over there. Could be the life pod. Dunno what else it'd be."</p><p>"All right. Let's—"</p><p>"Robin!" Starfire shouted, pointing behind their leader.</p><p>The whole group turned to find what they could only presume to be one of the creatures Raven and Jinx had encountered. It's eerie iridescence, malformed appearance and stiff, unnatural movements inspired in Raven's comrades the same dread and primal urgency as it had in the empath, for a moment holding them all captive in disturbed paralysis.</p><p>It was one thing to hear Raven describe it, but another entirely to see it firsthand.</p><p>Then, Robin was rudely jerked back.</p><p>"Remember," Starfire told him. "We must not touch them."</p><p>Robin looked from Starfire back to the thing, realizing only then, as his faculties returned to him, how close he had allowed it to get; he narrowed his eyes at the sensation it inspired: a tugging, as if on a string tied to a wooden block buried somewhere in his chest. "It," he said. "There's only one of them."</p><p>"One? I thought you said there wouldn't be <em>any</em>!" Beast Boy protested.</p><p>"I did, and there shouldn't be," Cyborg insisted, checking his readings again. "Raven's energy was gone when we went through, had been for hours. I waited to be sure."</p><p>Something fell into place in Robin's head. "It's me," he determined. "Our bond. I've always thought it was just a psychic connection. But whether she intended to or not, Raven must have left a piece of herself behind. And this thing's feeding off it."</p><p>Cyborg turned his scanner on Robin to confirm. "Not enough to bring 'em all back." Then he turned to the creature. "Not even really enough for one."</p><p>The misshapen thing continued to reach and drag and lurch toward Robin, and for a few seconds more, the group watched.</p><p>One in uncertainty.</p><p>One in fear.</p><p>One in pity.</p><p>And one in something else entirely, something that did not lend itself to simple description.</p><p>Starfire's gaze poured into the horrible thing as the essence of it flowed back into her. Every stilted, doll-like motion, every wisp of light that rolled off its unstable form, every moment it existed, it tore at the very deepest part of the Tameranean's heart—tore at it, ripped and shredded and held it close and cried into it, bit down and thrashed and sobbed and <em>screamed</em> into it; Starfire's jaw trembled, her eyes wide with concern, and she stepped back.</p><p>"It is wrong," she said terribly.</p><p>Robin reexamined the thing. "It…looks pretty much like Raven said it—"</p><p>"No," Starfire cut him off. "You do not understand. It is <em>wrong</em>. It is wrong that it <em>is</em>. Please," she implored them, "I do not wish to look upon it any longer."</p><p>Robin took her hand in a calming gesture, what little good it did. "Starfire, it's okay."</p><p>"No, it is <em>not</em>," she insisted. "It is…the most awful thing I could never have imagined. It is the <em>opposite</em> of okay."</p><p>The phrase, while perhaps innocuous from anyone else, from Starfire possessed a weight both stunning and profound: it was the <em>opposite</em> of okay—the antithesis, of all that could ever have been right and good and natural, of all the splendor and glory of creation, the antithesis, an existential miscarriage of being. The opposite of okay.</p><p>Robin switched his view to Cyborg. "You said you found the pod."</p><p>Cyborg gave a nod, then indicated a direction. "That way. Not sure how far."</p><p>"Then let's go. Starfire, can you fly?"</p><p>Beast Boy wasted no time in morphing into a pterodactyl, more than ready to go.</p><p>When Starfire failed to respond, Robin took her gently by the shoulders, turning her to face him and forcefully averting her gaze from the creature. "Starfire."</p><p>Her eyes, fearful and wet, connected with his briefly before she blinked them closed and wiped them on her arm. "I— Yes. A moment."</p><p>Unsteadily at first, Starfire took to the air, hoisting Robin along with her. Beast Boy and Cyborg followed, and they flew on in shared silence. An hour or two later, Cyborg's light illuminated a debris field beneath them, and they set back down.</p><p>Beast Boy took his human shape, taking in the wreckage strewn everywhere. "Whoa…"</p><p>"Debris field's pretty wide, but the pod should be nearby." Cyborg started walking, and the others followed.</p><p>They all turned back at a foreign light to find another of the creatures trying to take shape from the ground. Starfire looked away, while Robin took it upon himself to lead the thing around their perimeter and out of the way.</p><p>"There." Cyborg pointed ahead as the pod came into view.</p><p>As they got closer, Beast Boy knelt to examine the set of crawling tracks leading up to the pod. Two more sets led away. "Looks like this is the place."</p><p>Cyborg approached the pod but turned to the others. "Ya'll might…wanna hang back on this one. She's alive, but…the way she's gonna be hooked up, it ain't gonna be pretty."</p><p>They did, and he disengaged the locking mechanisms and opened the hatch. Sure enough, Jinx awaited him inside, just the way he'd imagined she would: sewn and stitched through by wires and tubes of various colors—but no two ever the same. He found each one meticulously labeled and, taking some time to gather a lay of the land, saw that she had been disconnected from everything unrelated to life support and powering the pod.</p><p>He closed the hatch; the locks engaged with a clunking <em>ker-chunk</em> and a hiss. "Time to go."</p><p>Beast Boy raised a hand. "Yes, please."</p><p>"Seconded," Robin agreed, walking backwards in a circle as the thing followed him.</p><p>Cyborg entered a command on his arm. "Motion carries." One more key press, and the portal flashed to life nearby.</p><p>Beast Boy first, Cyborg followed with the pod over his shoulder, Robin stepping through backward after.</p><p>Starfire, however, lingered on the threshold.</p><p>She looked back at the creature, who had stopped moving altogether in the absence of its goal and begun to evaporate without reforming. It shook unsteadily, one leg collapsing and followed swiftly by the others until it lay motionless on the ground, a puppet without strings.</p><p>Starfire winced. "I am…sorry. Truly, sorry."</p><p>The creature faded from view, and she stepped through the portal.</p><p>On the other side, the world returned. Like a switch had been flipped, the oppressive atmosphere imposed upon the group by the other dimension vanished.</p><p>Beast Boy let out a sigh of relief. "Man, that place was <em>freaky</em>. Not exactly, uh…vacation destination of the year, am I right?"</p><p>"No kiddin'." Cyborg set down the pod. "Whole universe full of ghosts."</p><p>"And no stars," Beast Boy added. "How weird was that?"</p><p>"Starfire, you okay?" Robin approached her, but she shied away.</p><p>"I…am fine. I will be. The experience was…quite jarring."</p><p>Robin took her hand, massaging it gently with his thumb. "Okay," he said. "I'm here. If you need me."</p><p>She smiled. "This, I know."</p><p>Robin smiled in return.</p><p>"I, uh… I'll go get Raven." Beast Boy excused himself, but paused when the <em>yes</em> bell jingled. "Oh. Hey."</p><p>Jinx folded her arms. "Went that well, huh?"</p><p>Robin said nothing.</p><p>"So, what'd ya think? If we go the timeshare route, I want summers," Jinx said in mock excitement.</p><p>"Get Raven," Robin said, and Beast Boy took off.</p><p>Cyborg opened up the pod and got to work. "I don't know what side-effects we're lookin' at from Raven's end, but from a medical standpoint… I mean, muscles are gonna be wonky, probably gonna be hungry, eyes are gonna hurt, but…more or less okay. I'll get ya cleaned up and disconnected so you're not chokin' on tubes or pullin' out wires."</p><p>"Great," Jinx said, simultaneously jingling the <em>yes</em> bell and clearly unenthused by the mention of tubes and wires. Also not lost to her: the fact that Cyborg had deliberately faced the pod <em>away</em> before opening it. She made no effort to approach, merely crossing her arms where she stood and diverting her attention. "So…what did happen?"</p><p>"We saw one of the creatures," Robin told her, still doing his best to comfort the Tameranean and presumably, to everyone else, just volunteering the report for Jinx's sake.</p><p>Robin said no more, but didn't have to. His lack of urgency and Starfire's condition painted a pretty good picture. Even more, seeing Starfire made Jinx wonder about her own reaction to the things, whether Raven's calming influence had affected it and exactly how much.</p><p>A black raven materialized through the floor with a screech before disappearing and leaving Beast Boy and the empath behind.</p><p>Raven looked to Cyborg, who gave a nod.</p><p>"Should be good to go," he said.</p><p>"What should I do?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven walked past her to the pod, focused entirely on the task at hand. "Nothing. But I will ask everyone else to stand over there and not move." She gestured at the door.</p><p>"Are we at risk?" Robin asked.</p><p>Raven held her hands near the pod. "No. But this is a very complex set of delicate, powerful energies, and I don't want anyone in the way or breaking my concentration. Think of it like…weaving a multi-planar fractal. Out of spun glass. With my mind."</p><p>"Should we…maybe leave the room?" Beast Boy asked.</p><p>Raven shook her head once. "You're alive. Your ambient energy will help keep the lattice stable, as long as you don't move. If you need to do anything, do it now. Once I begin, this will take some time."</p><p>Beast Boy held up a pointed finger. "I, uh… I'll be right back." He left in the direction of the bathroom.</p><p>"Is it…dangerous?" Jinx asked, trying to hide her worry out of reflex, even though she knew it wouldn't matter.</p><p>"No," Raven assured her. "Worst case, it doesn't work and I go back to the drawing board. But it is taxing, and I would rather not have to wait to try again if something goes wrong. I've…never done this before, but I imagine, if it works, it will also be very…jarring. We're basically plugging a live wire back into a machine. Be ready for a jolt."</p><p>When Beast Boy returned, the group took up positions they could keep for the long haul, and Raven began.</p><p>As Jinx and the others looked on, she pulled up her hood—presumably to block out distractions—and raised her arms in a way reminiscent of a musical conductor. Strange and arcane whispers flowed from beneath the hood in a fluid, ethereal stream, her feet planted firm but her arms, hands, and fingers drawing shapes in the air; the lights dimmed, but in a way wholly unfamiliar to the onlookers: as though the electronics themselves had not, but the <em>light</em> had, in fact, grown dimmer.</p><p>Darkness overtook them and lingered for several minutes, Raven's airy chant continuing all the while.</p><p>Then, Raven's hands appeared in the gloom, illuminated by a blue-white glow that traced their every motion. A particularly emphatic utterance gave way to a few moments of silence, and the same glow appeared from the inside of the pod; Raven's hands raised, and her chant and ritual resumed.</p><p>The glow from the pod pulsed in rhythmic fashion—a heartbeat—and with each one, revealed more and more of a marvelous tapestry of energy threaded through the room and its occupants like crystallized smoke hanging just slightly out of phase. At each pulse, the room brightened, creeping back from the darkness with every beat.</p><p>At one point, Jinx's eyes wandered to her companions, only to find many of them staring right back at her.</p><p>The light and the lattice hummed after a time, increasing in volume and luminosity until they forced all eyes closed and submerged the assembly in deafening, otherworldly bass that continued to build. At the peak of its crescendo, the humming sound culminated in a violent <em>crack</em> accompanied by a brief but brilliantly pink explosion.</p><p>In its wake, the group found the light, the lattice and the sound all gone and the room returned to normal.</p><p>Approaching the nearest wall, Raven leaned against it, shoulders heaving with great, heavy breaths. "You can move," she managed between them. "It's done."</p><p>"Did it work?" Robin asked.</p><p>An unsteady groan emanated from the pod, followed by another that escalated into a mostly pained, partly annoyed, "<em>Ow</em>…"</p><p>"Guess so," Beast Boy replied.</p><p>Cyborg held up one arm, scanning as he made his way over. "Life signs steady." He stopped at Raven. "You okay?"</p><p>Nodding and brushing him off, she directed his attention to more pressing matters.</p><p>A few quick checks over the pod and its occupant, and Cyborg eyed the others. "Everything looks fine. Pretty much what we expected."</p><p>"My <em>ass</em>…" Jinx retorted rudely, then whimpered more quietly, "Why, oh why didn't I take the <em>blue</em> pill…?"</p><p>"Please don't puke," Beast Boy begged her, queasy himself at the thought.</p><p>Jinx groaned again.</p><p>"Your muscles are actually in pretty good shape," Cyborg told her. "Stiff, but not atrophied. Just maybe give it a minute before y—"</p><p>"<em>Augh</em>!" Jinx rolled over in a flash, thrashing her head and covering her face with one arm—and growling at the pain of moving it there.</p><p>"—open your eyes," Cyborg finished. "Go slow. You'll be fine." Interacting remotely with the room's settings, he lowered the lights some.</p><p>"Gee, thanks… And not a moment too soon…" Jinx quipped.</p><p>Waved over by Cyborg, Raven approached the pod to view her handiwork while the others lingered back a bit, giving them space. The empath's brow lifted, shocked or impressed, at the colorful flood of language pouring from between Jinx's clenched teeth.</p><p>Beast Boy's ears twitched. "Whoa. Guess Gizmo rubbed off a little, huh?"</p><p>Gradually, Jinx calmed down as the stabbing pain in her eyes ebbed. She lay still afterward, one arm still over her face only because she hadn't bothered to move it; she drew in several long, slow breaths. One at a time, different muscles groups visibly relaxed, starting with her feet, up her legs to her body, her hands and her arms, and finally her shoulders and upper back.</p><p>"Sorry," Jinx said, and took in another large breath.</p><p>"For wh—" Cyborg cut himself short when Jinx's exhale coincided with a ring of pink energy that expanded until it hit the walls, subsequently frying most of the tech. The metal man hung his head with a sigh. "At least the lights still work…"</p><p>Squinted tightly, Jinx's eyes fluttered in their attempts to open. When they finally succeeded, a smirk slithered across her lips; stiffness and pain and all, her right hand flew up and took a stunned Raven by the collar. "Hello, <em>nurse</em>!"</p><p>Before the empath could react, she found herself yanked down into a kiss; with several snapping <em>pops</em>, the lights went out.</p><p>"Come on!" Cyborg complained in the dark.</p><p>"I know, right?" Beast Boy agreed. "I mean, I spend <em>hours</em> coming up with material, and <em>she </em>keeps cracking jokes!" He counted on his fingers. "It's alive, welcome to the world of tomorrow, mostly dead all day—I had a whole set!"</p><p>"Corpse breath," Raven noted. "Thanks."</p><p>"Corpse Bride! Hello!" Beast Boy exclaimed, case-in-point.</p><p>The room's emergency lights kicked on, dimmer but workable.</p><p>"How are you feeling?" Raven asked.</p><p>Eyes shut again, Jinx scrunched her face in discomfort. "Like a sardine." She smirked. "Probably smell like one, too."</p><p>"I didn't mean physically," Raven amended.</p><p>Jinx seemed to consider the question. "Dunno. Normal, I guess? What am I lookin' out for?"</p><p>"Baseless depression, undirected rage, nihilistic disregard," Raven replied. "Anything different, powerful, and seemingly without cause that might indicate your soul hasn't properly adjusted. Anything missing, or there now that wasn't before. Anything you don't recognize."</p><p>A vicious grin spread across Jinx's lips, accompanied by a furious pink glow that consumed her slowly opening eyes. "The sudden urge to reverse the wheels of probability, undo the order of creation, and rule over the unmitigated chaos into which I've plunged the universe as its mad god-queen?"</p><p>Beast Boy blanched.</p><p>Jinx's fervor disappeared in a blink. "Nah. Mostly just want a shower. Like, the hottest one of my life. Maybe scrub off the first few layers of skin. Y'know."</p><p>Starfire inched forward in the background, clearly itching to hug or help or <em>something</em>, but admirably restrained herself. "I…realize that you may wish <em>the space</em> while you recover, but please, is there anything that you require? May we assist you, somehow?"</p><p>Jinx's voice came evenly, rehearsed, and without hesitation. "Bath bomb. Exfoliating gloves. Candles."</p><p>Starfire put on a look of concern. "You…desire an explosive?"</p><p>"We can handle that," Robin volunteered, promising Starfire that he would explain what Jinx had meant.</p><p>Beast Boy raised his hand. "Exfoliating gloves. Spare set, never opened. You can keep 'em if you want." He was met by several curious stares. "What? A guy can't appreciate good skincare?"</p><p>Taking it for what it was, Raven chimed in next. "And I've got candles." She then put on a tiny smile and commented to Jinx, "You put thought into that."</p><p>Jinx's eyes narrowed, playing up the drama. "Bein' dead. Really puts things in perspective."</p><p>"What really matters?" Raven asked, dryly but playfully just the same.</p><p>Jinx offered a slow nod.</p><p>Raven crossed her arms lightly. "At least you've got priorities."</p><p>The next few minutes saw the group adjourned from Cyborg's workshop: Robin and Starfire off to procure Jinx's first request and Cyborg to run a post-op diagnostic on his machine, while Raven accompanied a fuzzy green bear as it carried Jinx from the pod up to her room. The changeling then retrieved his spare set of exfoliating gloves and departed afterward with a joke and a grin, leaving the two alone.</p><p>"Sure you're all right?" Raven asked, watching an unsteady Jinx prop herself up on the threshold to the bathroom.</p><p>Jinx waived off the concern. "Oh, yeah. Metahuman. I'll be doin' backflips and cartwheels in an hour."</p><p>"If you do need anything, I'll be reading," Raven told her.</p><p>"Uh-huh." Jinx's reply came between the sounds of her presumably negotiating her way into the combination tub-shower.</p><p>Raven, meanwhile, took a seat at the foot of her bed. She doffed her hood and, hands resting idly on her knees, looked down at them. Through them.</p><p>As Jinx went about her business a room away, Raven's mind returned to another villain altogether, his self-assured bravado, his cocky sneer, his confidence. His pinprick pupils, eyes wide with the most genuine fear, his frantic scrambling for safety he would not find. The satisfaction she'd felt, her vision bathed in red, zeroed in on his racing heart, his rising blood pressure—his mounting horror—as her tendrils sprang from the depths, coiled, and dragged him screaming into the abyss.</p><p>Emotion run rampant, out of control. Unleashed.</p><p>Her hands curled on her knees.</p><p>For a moment, she wondered what other people must have worried over when considering their first sexual experiences, or if they worried at all. The situations were hard to pinpoint, so her empathic tendencies hadn't given her much intelligence on the subject. Maybe they didn't even worry at all, until the moment. Maybe they wondered, mostly. Idealized. Fantasized.</p><p>She worried.</p><p>At least, now she did. Jinx's feelings didn't appear to have changed, which meant…</p><p>Her memory flashed back to that night in the cave, now with the advantage of afterthought and time to process. Though she believed she understood it better now, she still found the results largely nonsensical. The acts themselves, simple enough, and kissing strange enough on its own. How or why any of it should have produced the feelings it did escaped her.</p><p>Two slices of bread, some fillings, maybe some kind of spread: put them together, and they made a sandwich, a logical sum of the parts involved.</p><p>Bodies pressing together, hands feeling, mouths blindly groping other mouths: put them together, and they created an utterly inexplicable sense of comfort, of fulfillment, of completeness, a wholeness like she hadn't before experienced and doubted she would encounter anywhere else ever again. Two plus two that equaled not the four it should have, but some grand and mystifying sum that should not have been.</p><p>Acceptance?</p><p>Maybe. Or more than that—her whole life at arm's length, and then to be not only wanted but <em>desired</em>, and desired for who she was and not <em>what</em> she was or what she could do.</p><p>Still…</p><p>In a world of billions adrift in a sea of limitless dimensions, that any sort of connection with any single individual should carry such weight, that a person's feelings of emotional completeness should rise or fall by the desires or approval of any one being, it made so little sense.</p><p>It occurred to her at that point that, in her explorations of her emotions, she had encountered an entirely new creature: comprised of raw emotional connection down to its most basic components, it defied rationalization by virtue of its very nature, and by that same nature begged to be accepted simply because it was, on its own terms.</p><p>Non-Euclidian…</p><p>A thing that could not be contained or defined in the context of the reality she understood: in her case, reason.</p><p>Taken that way, it would not change. Could not. She could either accept it and explore it further, or deny it and banish it away back to its own reality.</p><p>The decision, a simple one, might have been very different some years earlier. Still, Raven found herself drawing a deep breath at what it implied, the daunting task ahead. This was not simply some new equation or formula she could learn and integrate into her existing schema, no; this was an entirely different <em>math</em>, where numbers she knew might or might not exist and where two plus two might indeed equal whatever it wanted.</p><p>With that thought, she resolved to alter her emotional explorations, somewhat: to try to understand them in her usual way, of course, but also to take them at face value, on their own merits—to no longer reason them through to decide whether they were valid, but to <em>accept</em> them as valid and <em>also</em> reason them through.</p><p>Her entire emotional worldview, turned on its head so profoundly by one impulsive night in a cave.</p><p>Along with her desire to chase that feeling again, however—and she did have that desire, could not deny that she did—came the worries.</p><p>Obscure, intangible, unquantifiable worries. Worries about the unknown. Rage, at least, she understood, had experienced before, knew what to expect. This, whatever it was, though she could feel its pressure behind the dam, she knew nothing else about it.</p><p>And <em>that</em> worried her. Not knowing.</p><p>What it would feel like. What effects it would have. What risks it would present.</p><p>Resolved, Raven reached out to several books on a nearby shelf. Engulfed in her dark aura, they levitated over to her, opened, and began turning pages as she scanned through them. At the very least, she could look for a way to suppress or dampen her powers long enough to create a safe period for experimentation. Mitigation. That way, at least if she <em>did</em> lose control, well…better a kitten than a lion.</p><p>Spells…no. A loss of control precluded anything that required concentration.</p><p>Glyphs?</p><p>No. A glyph large enough to suppress her potential, even for a short time, would have to take up half the city. Wards, as well. Unless she planned to rearrange a few skyscrapers into a totem.</p><p>Runes.</p><p>Possible. The right ink, infused with her blood, given the right enchantment and tattooed under the skin… Risky, though. Too little, wouldn't work. Too much, might not wear off.</p><p>One of her books flipped past a page diagraming a set of manacles designed to restrain sorcerers, and she paused.</p><p>That could work.</p><p>Maybe not that exactly, but the right variation.</p><p>Set of wristlets, anklets, maybe a collar—solid iron cast from materials from her father's home dimension, infused with her soul self during the smelting process and quenched in water with the right enchantment. Uncomfortable, probably. Maybe even painful. Burning sensation from the iron, high internal temperature from the energy suppression, possibly other feverish symptoms. But it would probably do the job, at least long enough for one night at a time.</p><p>Probably.</p><p>The materials would be easy enough, for Cyborg anyway. Leave Robin home and they could travel the dimension safely, and his scanners wouldn't have any trouble finding the requisite iron.</p><p>But the enchantment…</p><p>Far, far beyond her ability.</p><p>In its search for candidates to perform the enchantment, her mind found itself back in the ruins of Azarath left in her father's wake. Her heart sank at the memory. Azarath itself might rebuild, but…</p><p>Without Azar, the only one left might have been…Doctor Fate. <em>Maybe</em>. If she could contact him. And if he didn't immediately distrust her. And if he could be bothered to try.</p><p>With a sigh, Raven closed the tomes and placed them back on the shelf, done for the moment. She would have to approach Robin about some way to contact Fate through the League and…try to figure out how to voice her request so that the interdimensional symbol of Order wouldn't know the whole thing stemmed from the need for a safe way to get past first base.</p><p>Not that such restraints couldn't have other practical uses, should she ever decide to explore emotions like Rage.</p><p>Of course, <em>that</em> thought brought others to mind, of other…practical…uses certain people might have found. She didn't relish the thought of introducing her own kryptonite into the universe, especially for something as ultimately trivial as intimacy. But as much distaste as she had for the prospect, the rational side of her couldn't deny the necessity of it.</p><p>She had done admirably well in her life so far, she thought. But if anything were to happen, if she were to slip one day, make a mistake or somehow otherwise lose herself to her heritage…</p><p>Well, most people put together plans to handle their funeral expenses. She could only hope that hers didn't fall into the wrong hands.</p><p>A knock at her door.</p><p>Raven approached, and the door slid open to reveal Robin and Starfire, who smiled.</p><p>"We have returned!" Starfire proclaimed, presenting Raven with the bath bomb.</p><p>Raven eyed it, and then Robin.</p><p>"She, uh…liked the idea. Of the bath bombs," he explained.</p><p>Raven switched to Starfire. "How much?"</p><p>"Oh, Raven! They are glorious! You merely place them in the water, and they do the most amazing things!" Starfire told her.</p><p>"Sorry we took so long," Robin apologized. "Turns out they, uh…don't sell by the gross at the mall. We had to talk to a distributor. There's a crate coming next week."</p><p>Starfire clapped excitedly, bouncing in place on her toes. "There are many different kinds, as well! We will try them all, yes?" She took Robin's arm.</p><p>"Sure," he said with a smile.</p><p>From the bathroom, the sound of a rushing faucet replaced the shower.</p><p>Raven glanced back, then faced her friends again. "I should…"</p><p>"Right," Robin said.</p><p>After thanking them for the bath bomb, Raven retreated inside her room and retrieved several candles. She lit them, then levitated them along with the bath bomb and a set of pajamas into the bathroom.</p><p>"<em>Thank you</em>," Jinx sang from inside.</p><p>A little envious of Jinx's relaxation, Raven decided on a little self-indulgence of her own. She entered a few keystrokes into the wall panel near the door, then returned to the foot of her bed and took up her hovering lotus position. Not long after, the lights dimmed—in the bathroom as well—and the sound of falling rain trickled over the room. The scent of wet, fallen leaves drifted from the air vent, and Raven allowed herself to drift into meditation.</p><p>An hour or so later, Jinx emerged from the bathroom in her borrowed clothes.</p><p>"Pretty cool," she said, in reference to the room's atmosphere.</p><p>"Thanks," Raven replied. "It…helps me relax." She floated silently down to the floor, then raised a curious eyebrow when Jinx ran her fingers up through her wet hair with a crackle of pink sparks; it emerged dry and in its usual style. "Interesting," the empath observed.</p><p>Jinx smirked. "The <em>real</em> secret to great lift. So, what's the deal with these?" She indicated her pajamas. "Didn't take ya for a satin fan. Not that they're not comfortable, I mean."</p><p>"A gift, from Starfire," Raven explained offhandedly, retrieving a clean uniform and a towel from her closet. "I usually just sleep in uniform."</p><p>"Kinda figured," Jinx said.</p><p>"I'll be back in a minute," Raven told her.</p><p>Jinx plopped down on the side of the bed. "'Kay."</p><p>As she disappeared into the bathroom, it occurred to Raven to warn Jinx about some of the books and objects in her room. To even her own surprise, she mostly put aside the worry. Jinx was a practitioner herself, after all. She would sense anything magical, and would know better than to meddle with anything she didn't understand.</p><p>A quick and pleasant shower later, Raven returned. Wet towel set in place to dry, she sat alongside her bed, retrieved her hairbrush from the bedside table, and brushed, allowing her senses to venture out as she did; Jinx didn't appear to have moved from the spot she had occupied when Raven had left. The small bandages Cyborg had placed after removing the wires and tubes were already gone, the sites more or less healed.</p><p>Anticipation. Nervousness. Anxiety. Excitement buried in there somewhere.</p><p>Nothing wholly unexpected, although it did give the empath a rather clear image of where her guest's mind had wandered in her absence.</p><p>"So…now what?" Jinx asked, in a way that gave the empath the impression she was fully aware that her feelings were on the table. "I mean, Bird Boy offered me my own room if ya—"</p><p>"I don't see the point in that," Raven told her. "You've indicated that you haven't lost interest. I'm interested in exploring further. We had what I understand to have been an extended and very unorthodox first date in another dimension, and we've already slept in the same bed, as it were."</p><p>"Okay," Jinx said.</p><p>"But…you do need to understand: this isn't just new to me, in the dating sense. Every feeling <em>involved</em> with it is new. What they mean, how they feel, how they affect me, what they <em>are</em>. While I'm comfortable with you, I'm uncomfortable with all the parts of me being explored, here—in every sense," Raven told her.</p><p>Jinx turned her body to face Raven, her face honest and her hands flat in surrender. "Totally get it. Your pace. No pressure."</p><p>Raven looked down, unsure how to respond, unable even to define what her pace <em>was</em>.</p><p>"So, uh…normally I wouldn't ask—kinda kills the mood a little, takes the fun outta bein' spontaneous—but since this is a special situation: how, uh…how far didja wanna go, exactly? Like, what're ya…y'know…okay with?"</p><p>"I…don't really know," Raven admitted. "What we did before should be fine. Maybe a little more than that, but…probably clothes-on, maybe wait for anything <em>too</em> serious until I can take precautions against any risks. At least until I have a better idea of what the risks <em>are</em>."</p><p>"So…have fun, but play it by ear," Jinx paraphrased.</p><p>"More or less," Raven confirmed.</p><p>Jinx looked away, her feelings swirling and swelling between apprehension and anticipation.</p><p>"So…now what?" Raven asked.</p><p>Jinx opened her mouth slightly at having her question thrown back at her by the person who was supposed to have answered it. "Uh…"</p><p>"Well…what would you do if it were someone else?" Raven asked. "Other than me."</p><p>"What would <em>I</em> do?" Jinx made sure.</p><p>"Within reason," Raven stipulated.</p><p>Jinx thought a moment. "Ya like music?"</p><p>Raven shook her head some. "Not really."</p><p>"Okay…" Changing tactics or just skipping a step, Jinx got up long enough to turn out the lights completely, then returned to the bed and lay down on it properly.</p><p>A touch on her arm, and Raven allowed herself to be led down onto her side, facing away with Jinx behind.</p><p>They lay there, seconds ticking by in still silence.</p><p>Uncertainty.</p><p>"Little weird," Jinx commented.</p><p>"Why?" Raven asked.</p><p>"Input," Jinx said.</p><p>Choosing an answer from the multiple-choice quiz going on in her mind, Raven scooched closer.</p><p>Relief, reassurance.</p><p>Correct answer, apparently.</p><p>She raised her head a bit to allow Jinx's arm to slide under her pillow, while the other came to rest over her midsection.</p><p>That relief, however, ebbed quickly, the old uncertainty creeping up from below.</p><p>Raven grumbled inwardly. "How do you know?"</p><p>"What?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"How do you know what to do?" Raven asked, trying not to let her annoyance slip through.</p><p>"I-I don't know," she said, put on the spot. "Just…don't think about it. Are you not into it?"</p><p>"<em>You're</em> not," Raven said pointedly. "Because <em>I</em> keep screwing up, missing steps, flubbing lines. I can feel it."</p><p>Realization, guilt, regret.</p><p>"Like that, right there," Raven said. "I did it again."</p><p>"No, you just— I didn't—" Jinx took a breath. "Whaddaya want?"</p><p>"I don't know," Raven said, then chose a new approach. "You want to do more. You're hesitating. Apprehensive. Why?"</p><p>"I…wasn't sure if—"</p><p>"I'm clueless. If you're waiting for signals, you probably won't get them because I don't know how or when to send them," Raven told her. "But I'm also an empath. If you're put off, I'll be put off. If you're into it, I'll be into it. You already have my permission, so unless I tell you to stop, just—"</p><p>She stopped abruptly when she felt a hand move from her stomach up to her bust.</p><p>Then, apprehension again.</p><p>This time, Raven grit her teeth and ripped off the Band-Aid herself, taking Jinx's hand and pressing it down.</p><p>Like a chain reaction, in a flash Raven found herself pulled on top into a straddling position. Hands touched down on her arms, feeling their way to her chest, down her stomach, around her sides and up along her back as they guided her down into a kiss. She tensed when the hands ran down past her waist to her bottom and squeezed; Jinx drew in a seething breath through her nose.</p><p>But rather than the awkwardness she had expected to feel while having her body explored by unfamiliar hands, she found herself not only okay with it, but perhaps even more than that. The prospect of being someone's object of attraction, of allowing her body to be used by someone in that way, made her heart race.</p><p>The empath felt her partner's hips begin to roll in a way that suggested unconscious movement. It turned deliberate, however, when Jinx slid her feet up, planting them on the bed to bend her knees, and began pulling Raven closer in time with her rhythm.</p><p>Raven's heart fluttered at the new emotion—almost <em>completely</em> new, directed at her—that swelled above the rest in that moment: arousal. And alongside it, the electric excitement from the cave.</p><p>Like a catalyst, the two feelings reacted instantly inside her, calling up the urge she remembered. Careful to keep a kill-switch of control, she turned it loose; it sprang forth eagerly, moving her hips in tandem on her own; shifting her face next to her partner's, she breathed heated breaths against her ear.</p><p>Jinx's response was immediate: a sigh, a tightened grip. Elation.</p><p>Spurred on, Raven reciprocated the gesture, biting down gently on her partner's ear and moaning softly into it. Before she realized it, one of her hands had moved down the front of Jinx's body below her waist—fingers still but firm, tracking the motions of her hips and giving her something to move against.</p><p>Jinx's excitement spiked with a shakily whispered something at the realization of some long-held fantasy. Her hands moved up, past Raven's back to her shoulders, locking her in place. She shivered when Raven let out another sound, not a grunt, a moan or a groan, but something invested, hungry, and pressed their bodies—and her hand—more firmly, insistently.</p><p>Jinx's pace quickened, and Raven nibbled a little harder, tugged a bit, and nuzzled encouragingly. She imagined she must have said something, as well, although she failed to recall exactly what. But whatever it had been, it had been enough; one of Jinx's hands took the bedspread in a death grip while the other flew down and took Raven's at the wrist, holding it just right. Her muscles tightened with a strained, sustained groan, and then she relaxed entirely onto the bed, panting and heart thumping hard enough that Raven could feel it between them.</p><p>But at that moment, she barely noticed, her entire emotional landscape clouded over by the peaceful, satisfied haze flowing from her partner. Even as she felt it fade, she let her eyes lose focus along with her mind, every conscious thing sacrificed to better appreciate the short-lived, perfect contentment; for an instant, probably a brief one, nothing else mattered or existed: worry, stress, fear, doubt, all of it lost in a blissful fog that refused to be ruined. For an instant, absolute balance.</p><p>Seconds rolled past like a mounting breeze, blowing away that fog little by little until it was gone.</p><p>In its wake, a new memory emerged. The cocktail of pleasurable sensations inspired in her partner, the exhilaration of climax, the emotional primality of its pursuit took root inside the empath and grew—quickly—a tiny seed exploding into a monstrous, alien mass of tendrils, grasping and lashing out in the blind pursuit of <em>more</em>.</p><p>Raven cut them off at the base, silencing the new urges in one swift, decisive mental stroke.</p><p>Then, it grew back.</p><p>A hand probed her in the dark, undoubtedly in reciprocation of what she'd just done, and no sooner did it touch her than did everything she had silenced force its way back in a fearsome, shrieking resurgence.</p><p>Struggling to calm her heaving breaths, she took Jinx's hand and held it at bay as she beat back the urge, the impulse to take things much further than their mostly innocent display and into she didn't know what. Thoughts of flesh and tastes, of feelings and incredible sensations invaded her mind as she fought to clear it.</p><p>"What about you?" Jinx asked, only seconds having passed.</p><p>"I'm..." <strong><em>hungry</em></strong>..."okay."</p><p>"Are—"</p><p>"I'm <em>fine</em>," Raven insisted harshly, chiding herself afterward for her misdirected anger. "I just..." <em>want to wring you <strong>dry</strong></em>..."need a minute…"</p><p>A second.</p><p>Another.</p><p>"Okay," Jinx said.</p><p>Raven moved off her, holding her head as she pushed her way through the torrent of feelings to fix the crack she had allowed in the dam. "It isn't you. It's..." <em>amazing incredible wonderful <strong>addictive</strong></em>. "Just..."</p><p>"Are ya okay? D'ya need—"</p><p>Raven jerked away from where she imagined Jinx would reach out for her in the dark. "Please..." <em>touch me hold me want me make me give me <strong>more</strong></em>… "Ugh..." She held her head more tightly. "S-Stop..." <em>making me <strong>wait</strong></em>...</p><p>Worry.</p><p>Pink light emanated from Jinx's hands, illuminating Raven's huddled form. "Raven?"</p><p>Raven curled into herself, squeezing into a ball. "I…" <em>need it want you want <strong>everything</strong></em>. "I c-can't..." <em>stop now wait any longer <strong>live</strong> without <strong>more</strong></em>. "I…" She looked up, and—when she saw Jinx recoil at whatever it was she saw in her eyes in that moment—released the kill-switch she had held at the beginning.</p><p>Like a breaker flipped, without any drifting off or countdown or fading out, the world went black.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The One Who Knocks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A single drop of awareness fell into the inky sea of Raven's vacant mind. Its ripples spread in every direction, illuminating the circuitry of her consciousness; cognitive systems hummed and whirred back to life, switching on one by one.</p><p>Beneath her, soft and solid.</p><p>The smell.</p><p>The medical bay, a recovery bed.</p><p>Her senses reached out.</p><p>Concern, worry, and guilt. Frustration, restrained but bordering on anger.</p><p>She took a deep, filling breath and exhaled slowly through her nose. Opening her eyes, she found the others, all of them.</p><p>Next came the chorus of relieved sentiments, so expected that she hardly heard them at all. More pressing matters waited behind them—physically, behind the others who crowded around her: Robin, who held back, arms folded, eyes stern, jaw set. No attempt at all to hide his mixed and warring feelings, but displayed in full view, probably on purpose. A pillar of tempered indignation crackling behind the soothing mist of the others.</p><p>Once the commotion, and Starfire, had calmed down, Cyborg took the floor.</p><p>"Gave us quite a scare," he said. "Heart never stopped beatin', but for a while, couldn't even tell ya were in there. Not like your healin' trance."</p><p>"It's…not a trance. It's a failsafe," Raven admitted reluctantly. "When I started experimenting with my emotions, I designed it to…shut me down, cognitively…before I completely lose control."</p><p>"Before <em>what</em>?" Beast Boy asked. "You mean you…"</p><p>Shock, disbelief, more worry blended into fear.</p><p>Perfect…</p><p>Raven looked away, ashamed.</p><p>"Is she all right?" Robin asked from the back.</p><p>Cyborg gave a nod.</p><p>"Then if you all wouldn't mind, I think the three of us need to have a conversation," Robin told the others. His eyes narrowed pointedly behind his mask. "Alone."</p><p>Cyborg touched a reassuring hand to Raven's shoulder before acquiescing to their leader's request, Beast Boy not far behind him.</p><p>"Uh…sure," the changeling said before making his way out. He looked back. "Glad you're okay."</p><p>Starfire, meanwhile, merely smiled at Raven and Jinx. Upon her exit, though, she stopped in front of Robin.</p><p>Courage, confidence. Staunch, fearless support.</p><p>She touched her hand gently to his face, but he didn't flinch.</p><p>"You are upset," she said. "I have observed that, sometimes, when you are upset, you speak or act rashly, without consideration. I understand that, as our leader, you must have this 'conversation.' However, as my more-than-a-friend, understand this." She moved her hand to his chest, pressing a firm finger into it—but he didn't flinch. "You will <em>not</em> discourage our friend from exploring her feelings, and you will <em>not</em> discourage our friends from exploring their feelings for each other. Or I will be discouraged in mine."</p><p>Touching his face one more time, and seemingly without awaiting a reply she knew he would not give in the moment, Starfire resumed her exit.</p><p>Jinx crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in a petulant display. "Oh, <em>here</em> we go. The Bird Boy and the bees."</p><p>No reaction.</p><p>"I know what you're going to say," Raven told him. "But you <em>know</em> me. I wouldn't have taken anything I considered a risk. I thought…" She realigned and tried again. "I misjudged. Underestimated. This is all new to me. I thought I had things under control, and I made a mistake. I'm sorry."</p><p>"I know," Robin said finally, in a tone whose sincerity did not seem to match the hardness of his body language. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "You heard Star. And honestly, I feel the same. Most of me. Part of me…"</p><p>In the interlude, somewhere in the bowels of the tower, a bat chirped and fluttered about in the gloom.</p><p>Robin's eyes winced. "I can't…<em>ignore</em> that part of me. As much as I want to. It's there, and it's sounding alarms all over the place, and it makes sense. For the first time in your life, in the history of this team, you can't trust your own judgment. The territory is so unfamiliar that any call you make is a shot in the dark, and with the consequences at stake…" He looked down and away. "But…we're more than a team. Much more." He paused, seemingly in thought. "I won't ask you to stop, couldn't. And I won't allow the risk, can't. So I'm asking this." He switched to Raven, eye to eye. "What am I supposed to do?"</p><p>With a screech, a black raven engulfed the empath and carried her through the ceiling.</p><p>Alone with him now, Jinx strolled right up to Robin, poking him with her finger. "I don't care what ya do, but in case ya didn't notice from the way I blew my girlfriend's bulb last night with emotional <em>rebound</em>, I'm pretty into this. And you're <em>not</em> gonna screw it up for me. Capiche?"</p><p>Before Robin could respond, whether he would, Raven returned, book in-hand. Opening it to a specific page, she handed it to Robin.</p><p>He looked it over, along with Jinx, and then they both turned their attention back to Raven, at which point she explained her plan in detail.</p><p>When she finished, Robin read over the passage one more time, then looked up. "This would work?"</p><p>"It's the best I can think of," Raven replied.</p><p>"You know he'll want a set," Robin pointed out, no question in his tone as to who he meant.</p><p>"I expected as much," Raven said.</p><p>Jinx offered nothing.</p><p>Robin still seemed stuck in consideration, scrutinizing the angles.</p><p>"Side-effects?" he asked.</p><p>"Feverish symptoms, elevated temperature, general discomfort," Raven guessed.</p><p>Jinx scoffed.</p><p>Robin caught it. "Something to add?"</p><p>"<em>General discomfort</em>," Jinx said. "Yeah, right. For me, maybe. But she ain't human."</p><p>"So?" Robin asked.</p><p>"So there's no way to know the exact reaction," Raven explained, although she had hoped that would've slipped by unnoticed. "It…could itch, or be uncomfortably cold—"</p><p>"Or <em>burn</em>," Jinx said with emphasis. "They could melt your friggin' skin off, for all we know! Not like it's ever been <em>tested</em>."</p><p>Robin closed the book. "I agree. While I can see your point in having them around as an insurance policy—and even applaud you for volunteering—I also agree that we should test them before we bet the world on whether they work. I'll contact the League, track down Fate. Then we get these things made, reconvene with the others, do some tests and go from there."</p><p>"Lovely. Another team meeting regarding my romantic development," Raven quipped.</p><p>"I don't see any other way. Not until we know more," Robin decided. "Do you need to be present when Fate makes these? For the infusion?"</p><p>Raven shook her head. "A vial of blood should be enough. I imagine it's…probably better that way."</p><p>Robin acknowledged with a nod. "Wait here. I'll brief the others, then send Cyborg in for the sample."</p><p>"Uh-huh. And what do <em>we</em> do while you're all off doin' whatever?" Jinx asked, still clearly displeased.</p><p>"Take some time. Both of you," Robin told her in a more understanding tone. "You had a rough night. Go out somewhere. Talk. Decompress. I'll contact you when everything's ready." He approached Raven, returning her book.</p><p>When she took it and tugged, Robin didn't let go.</p><p>"We'll figure this out," he told her, then released.</p><p>"If the League doesn't decide to cut out the <em>maybe </em>and neutralize the risk first," Raven replied.</p><p>Nothing further, the boy wonder turned to leave.</p><p>"They wouldn't be wrong," Raven said, causing him to pause momentarily at the door.</p><p>The door swished open when Robin walked out, closing behind him.</p><p>Jinx practically threw up her arms. "The heck was <em>that</em>?"</p><p>"My emotional fulfillment weighed against all the lives of the universe?" Raven asked her. "It's…pretty much the most selfish risk anyone could ever take."</p><p>Jinx set her hands on her hips brazenly. "Yeah? Well accordin' to you, ya saved the stupid universe to begin with, so from where I'm standin', it owes ya one."</p><p>"Maybe," Raven admitted. "Still, you can't deny the—"</p><p>"The risk, yeah. I know. Blah, blah, blah." Jinx rolled her eyes again, then snickered. "Hey, while we're at it, might as well axe half the League. Right? I mean, 'Supes. C'mon. Guy sneezes wrong and knocks a whole galaxy outta whack."</p><p>Raven offered only a very mindful stare in response, one that gave eerie and frightening depth to Jinx's remark.</p><p>A few seconds later, Raven turned her eyes away. "It's…a valid point: not just those with powers, but sentient life itself as the greatest and most inevitable threat to the universe."</p><p>"Valid <em>point</em>?" Jinx asked in shock. "That was a joke! Like, to demonstrate <em>absurdity</em>?"</p><p>"Is it?" Raven asked. "Altering reality. Obliterating star systems. Bringing nightmares to life, or designing machines to do any or all of the above. Is it really that absurd, to wonder whether lower life—the universe, in general—would be better off without us in it? If we had never been?"</p><p>Seconds ticked past as Jinx watched her companion peer through the floor into infinity; having begun with a joke, she now found herself considering her words very carefully, under the distinct impression that she had stumbled into a minefield Raven had been navigating, or constructing, for a very long time.</p><p>Jinx sat down beside her. "Okay, I get where you're comin' from. Kinda…makes sense, when ya think about it, or at least that <em>you</em> would think about it. Y'know, considerin' your dad and…all that. But…maybe you're lookin' at it the wrong way."</p><p>Raven glanced up, unsure but willing to entertain the notion.</p><p>"Ya said <em>sentient</em> life. Right?" Jinx asked, trying to articulate something she had yet to really wrap her head around. "But, like…doesn't that just…I dunno…<em>evolve</em>, or somethin'? From regular life? So, like…if ya really want that way of thinkin' to work, ya can't just stop at sentient life. Ya gotta go the whole way—and ya can't even really stop there, 'cause where does that come from? Like, atoms and molecules and stuff. Right? Over time. So you'd have to nix all that, too. And at that point, <em>what's</em> the point. Y'know?"</p><p>Raven remained quiet.</p><p>"It's like…it's <em>inherently</em> risky. Existence, or whatever. Like it's designed that way. So I guess…you're sayin' it's too risky for ya to be happy," Jinx tried to sum up. "But I'm sayin' everybody deserves the <em>chance</em> to be happy, or else there's no point to the risk of bein' around at all."</p><p>Raven sported a small smile. "Even if hurting people is what makes someone happy?"</p><p>Jinx scrunched her lips. "Y'know what I mean."</p><p>"I do," Raven admitted. "And…it might interest you to know: now you're starting to sound like a hero."</p><p>"So no more of this self-deprecating crap?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"No more self-deprecating crap," Raven promised.</p><p>"Good. Now get up, bleed into a tube somewhere, and date me," Jinx demanded.</p><p>"Date you?"</p><p>"Duh. You heard bird-brain. Take me someplace fun. Someplace that's <em>not</em> a dead dimension where ya drag my soul around on a leash."</p><p>"I'm…bad at 'fun,' in the usual sense," Raven told her.</p><p>Jinx grinned. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not a girl in the usual sense. Just pick somewhere ya like."</p><p>"Someplace <em>I</em> like?" Raven asked.</p><p>"Sure." Jinx picked up Raven's hand in both of hers, tugging it until the empath rose from her seat, suddenly less fervent and more sincere, more genuine, almost apologetic. "Look, I had a great night—y'know, up until that one part—and you had a not so great one, so…just pick someplace ya like to go. If you're havin' a good time, I'll have a good time."</p><p>Raven raised an eyebrow. "Coming from someone who isn't an empath, that's probably indicative of a low-grade co-dependent personality disorder."</p><p>Jinx batted her eyelids. "Never said I was sane."</p><p>"Hence your interest in me."</p><p>"<em>Maybe</em>."</p><p>The door to the medical bay slid open to reveal Cyborg on one side and the two women on the other, in rather close proximity.</p><p>"Am I interuptin' somethin'?" he asked.</p><p>Raven straightened up. "No."</p><p>Jinx didn't move a muscle, but turned her eyes on the metal man with a smirk.</p><p>A few minutes later, Cyborg had secured Raven's blood sample and set about calibrating his machine for another trip to the dead dimension. At Raven's request, he had promised to personally see that any unused blood got destroyed after their work was done, with the warning that, in the wrong hands with the right knowledge, it could be used to grave and nefarious effect.</p><p>They stood in the hall outside the medical bay.</p><p>"So…where're we goin'?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven thought about it, but came up more or less empty. At least, as far as places she went for enjoyment. She mulled over the stock options of the pier, a carnival, the movies, maybe a restaurant.</p><p>But then, it occurred to her that she needn't choose any of those, that doing so might actually have been disrespectful. After all, she didn't enjoy them. Pretending she did would have been tantamount to lying, something she did lightly for friends and acquaintances in an attempt to put their 'fun' above her preferences.</p><p>Jinx, however, didn't want that. Didn't want to be just a friend, even a close friend like the others. She wanted more. Claimed she did, anyway. Honesty, then, would be the most respectful option, to honor Jinx's wish to go somewhere <em>she</em> enjoyed.</p><p>The truth, however, was that she rarely experienced enjoyment in the way others did. In fact, the closest she probably came was…</p><p>"I know a place," she decided.</p><p>"Sweet!" Jinx latched onto Raven's arm excitedly, all smiles as the black soul-self appeared and swallowed them.</p><p>They emerged to the sound of crows squawking and fluttering away.</p><p>Scanning the horizon, Jinx took a few steps forward to the edge of the great rooftop, or what remained of it. Once she got a better look, she found them atop a ruined cathedral. "Uh…"</p><p>"This…is where it happened," Raven said.</p><p>Jinx turned to her in confusion. "Where—" She cut her own question short when the meaning dawned on her; her eyes widened and her smile drained. "Oh."</p><p>Raven stood quietly in the moments that followed, cape flowing gently in the evening breeze. Apparently, she had lost a whole day.</p><p>Could've been worse, she decided. No way to tell how long her kill-switch would put her out. Could've been <em>days</em>, plural. Or weeks.</p><p>Or worse.</p><p>"So…" Jinx paced idly, uncomfortably, hands clasped behind her back. "This is…fun?"</p><p>Raven shook her head. "I told you. I'm bad at 'fun.' This is…balance. It's…about as close as I get."</p><p>"Okay," Jinx said. "Care to share?"</p><p>Raven looked out. "This is it. This is where the world ended. Where I gave up and <em>let</em> it end, where my father first broke through into our dimension—because I let him in."</p><p>Jinx's brow furrowed. "You—"</p><p>"To save them," Raven said. "I thought… I <em>knew</em>, if they kept trying to save me, they…" Her arms wrapped unconsciously around herself, nothing to do with the chill. "It…was them or the universe, and…I chose them."</p><p>The gears in Jinx's head turned with the new information, reprocessing the conversation they had just finished in the medical bay. Suddenly, it was no wonder the empath seemed so at home in wrestling with the few versus the many. She had done it before—and taken the other side.</p><p>"Do you know why I did it?" Raven asked, once Jinx's shifting emotions suggested her inner thoughts had reached a conclusion of some kind.</p><p>Jinx shook her head.</p><p>Raven gave pause, seeming to struggle with organizing exactly what she wanted to say, then turned to her. "Can I show you something?"</p><p>"Okay." Jinx said.</p><p>"When it comes to my father and his arrival here—the purpose for which I was created—I can be lightly prophetic. These aren't like the nightmare I showed you. They're not baseless fears or insecurities. They also aren't true prophecies," she made clear. "They're possibilities, derived from deep meditation and reflective not of this future, but of the roads not taken. Stories written by the decisions I <em>didn't</em> make but that I could have. These are what might have been."</p><p>Raven touched Jinx's head, in the same way as when she had shared the nightmare, and Jinx felt herself swept away.</p><p>An icy wind stung her cheeks, her face exposed while the rest of her took refuge in her cloak, held tightly from inside. Her vision opened to the darkened streets of Jump City, seen from a rooftop. Her soul-self embraced her as she phased from the roof down to the alleyway below, careful to avoid the roaming eyes of passersby as she embarked on her nightly routine of scavenging for sustenance and anything useful she could find.</p><p>Memories of the League and other missed opportunities, retreated from or lost to hesitation, swirled in her mind, haunting it like ghosts she could not seem to banish. In the day, they invaded her meditation with tapestries woven from shame, self-loathing, and frustration. At night, they whispered her regrets, highlighting her isolation and held at bay only by her determination to endure.</p><p>Her cowardice, to endure.</p><p>A thousand, thousand memories clamored, slobbered ravenously at the door of her mind with the thought—years upon years of biting back dark consideration, of denying the only proper course in the face of a destiny that could not be denied and that held countless <em>worlds</em> of lives hostage.</p><p>But, if it could…</p><p>If she could deny it…change it…avoid it somehow…</p><p>Hope dangled. Incessantly, day after day after month after year, hung like fool's gold in her heart: ultimately false, but glittering and promising enough to keep her from the ultimate despair necessary to overcome her cowardice.</p><p>And so, she endured. Lingered. Languished. Prisoner of a fate she could not change, held in a cell of hope hand-crafted by her own freedom of thought and will. A perfect, sadistic design.</p><p>Cries for help rang out from a nearby dead-end passage; she phased away, ignoring them as best she could.</p><p>With all the quickness of a lightning strike, another far-flung thought flickered: the thought of helping, of using her purgatory as some half-hearted blessing to do as much good as she could, to try to make some small penance for all the wrong her birth and cowardice would bring.</p><p>An avalanche of frightened faces piled on the blissful notion and crushed it, faces of those she had saved, frightened of <em>her</em> as much as of anything from which she had delivered them.</p><p>She found herself at the pier amid the sound of clanging buoys and lapping water; the darkened waves held her gaze in a trance, whispering as they rolled familiar thoughts of grim abdication.</p><p>Another shout, a man this time. Several.</p><p>She turned and saw a group of men dragging another toward the water's edge. For a moment, she envied him his helplessness. Then, the spark of hope in her chest.</p><p>Why bother?</p><p>Another cry—for someone, anyone.</p><p>It wouldn't matter.</p><p>Another—desperate, pleading.</p><p>One more chance.</p><p>Phasing through the ground and appearing in grand display, she chased off the group and reached down to help the man they had been dragging.</p><p>He moved away.</p><p>"Wait," she told him.</p><p>Fear. Always fear. He scrambled back.</p><p>"Please. I—"</p><p>He cowered.</p><p>Lured in and jilted again by a hope she could not forsake, frustration welled up inside her; momentarily out of check, indulged in selfish satisfaction, it kindled quickly into anger, ignited into rage—knee-jerking catharsis.</p><p>Red.</p><p>…</p><p>Wet, slick-sticky.</p><p>Blood.</p><p>Trembling.</p><p>Regret, horror, disgust.</p><p>Panic.</p><p>In shock, she fell back to a nearby building and huddled into a corner, curled up as tightly as her shivering body could manage; rocking in place, she buried her head in her knees and forced her eyes shut, sobbing quietly and clutching her head, digging her fingers into her skull.</p><p>Why hadn't he understood? Why didn't any of them <em>understand</em>?</p><p>Why had he—</p><p>If he had just—</p><p>It didn't have to <em>be</em> that way.</p><p>Why did it always have to <em>be</em> that way?</p><p>Every <em>day</em>.</p><p>All the <em>time</em>.</p><p>Why did everything have to <em>hurt</em>?</p><p>
  <em>But it didn't.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It didn't have to hurt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It hurt because she let it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because she allowed herself to feel it. To feel anything.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Didn't she understand, yet? Had she never considered?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Conflicted, every moment. Tortured, every day. Why? An empty scale balanced just as well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>An empty vessel. Devoid of feeling, devoid of power. Weak, but at peace. To end it or await the end.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Meditation. Time. She could manage it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why had she not?</em>
</p><p>She stopped rocking, in thought.</p><p>
  <em>She did not wish to be weak.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did not wish to be devoid of power.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She wished to control it.</em>
</p><p>Her breathing calmed as she worked through the implications.</p><p>Her power required emotion. Emotions precluded control.</p><p><em>Some, perhaps. But…not all</em>.</p><p>Maybe…</p><p>Maybe not all emotions were as prone, or even able, to spiral out of control. If she could just find one that didn't inherently want to run wild, just one, she could latch onto it and sever the rest. She really <em>hadn't</em> ever considered that. Why had no one ever <em>told</em> her?</p><p>
  <em>Was it really such a difficult question?</em>
</p><p>No…</p><p>No, it wasn't.</p><p>They hadn't told her because they hadn't wanted to. Because they hadn't ever really <em>wanted</em> her to control her power; they had wanted her to be afraid of it, afraid of herself, to spend her life neutered and torn, maybe even enough to do on her own what a society of pacifists could not. And if she'd let them, if they'd had enough time, they would have 'helped' her in learning to cut off her emotions completely—for their sake, their safety, not hers. Never hers.</p><p>No more.</p><p>She stood up, sifting through her emotions one-by-one in search of the one that would finally allow her the control she had always sought, always deserved, that would finally allow her no longer to bemoan her own existence for the sake of the self-serving and the ungrateful, but instead to take <em>pride</em> in it.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps…she had already found it.</em>
</p><p>In agreement, or at least willing enough to test the theory, she embraced her newfound pride in herself and, in one swift, mental motion—with only the briefest of considerattions—cut off everything else.</p><p>Her heart slowed. Her thoughts clarified, normalized.</p><p>Profound.</p><p>In the distance, footsteps. Running toward her.</p><p>The group she'd scared off, along with many more.</p><p>They pointed. Shouted. Raised weapons.</p><p>Curiosity gripped her, and she called upon a depth of her power she would not have considered moments before, channeling it into an illusion that saw the men turn on one another in horror; they opened fire, seeing what was not. When those who survived attempted to flee, shadows sprang to life around them—reacting to her will—and tore them to pieces.</p><p>She stood amid the gore in the aftermath and felt nothing, only that she had finally reached a thing long in coming, a thing both natural and deserved, as though she had, at long last, begun to swim with the current instead of against it. A void filled her, hollowed her out of everything that had caused her pain, and she resolved herself entirely to the notion that she had taken the first step to her natural role.</p><p>That she existed not as a person, not as an individual, but as a thing—like fire, or lightning, or some cosmic event—not to be judged but merely to <em>be</em>: like fire, to burn. No right, no wrong. Just to burn. Just to be, in the role that was hers.</p><p>Time passed, and Jinx found it difficult to distinguish one series of events from another, as though the river became muddied, as though the visions themselves encompassed so many possibilities that it was impossible to properly distinguish between them.</p><p>Confrontations with the Titans.</p><p>Confrontations with the League.</p><p>Some she survived, stripped the universe of its protectors a few at a time as she softened it, readied it and presented it to her father on a platter in a demonstration of her worth and continued usefulness. Every severed emotion atrophied over time, withered and died until she could no longer recall bygone sensations like pity or remorse, compassion or sympathy, joy or sorrow or rudeness or even rage, all shriveled and gone, lingering only as passing empathic curiosities. Through it all, she felt nothing—only pride in herself, in a role realized and fulfilled, in a place taken.</p><p>And so her father arrived, to great fanfare and unparalleled procession, to a dimension already enslaved. And so his power grew, and hers with it, and his pride in her and hers in herself. And so she departed, on to the next.</p><p>The Gem.</p><p>The Dark Lady, Herald of the End.</p><p>Some, she survived.</p><p>Others, she did not.</p><p>Jinx recoiled at one of those, pulling her head away. She stared at Raven, wide-eyed, then remembered Raven's previous instructions and gave herself a minute to process what she had been shown.</p><p>"Do you want to know the difference?" Raven asked, once it was clear that Jinx would not fly into a reaction. "Between this, and that?" She held out her hands again.</p><p>Wary but curious, Jinx approached.</p><p>The world rushed away, and she found herself in an alley in Jump City. In the distance, a shackled Starfire, eyes a furious green, tore apart everything in her path.</p><p>The Titans—Robin in his uniform, Cyborg in a gray hooded sweatshirt, and Beast Boy wearing a mask—took cover behind a bus from a hail of starbolts that shredded the block.</p><p>Starfire dropped to her knees, catching her breath—anger, frustration, desperation, fury.</p><p>But no malicious intent.</p><p>"Girl's gonna wreck the whole city," Cyborg said.</p><p>"I won't let her." Robin socked his fist into his palm. "I won't lose this fight."</p><p>The group rushed out.</p><p>Torn between the urge to run—to stay hidden—and the desire to intervene, to help, she paused only a moment before committing herself to a decision.</p><p>She extended a hand, summoning her soul self in a grand, screeching display; the barrier stopped the others in their tracks.</p><p>Sinking into the ground, she emerged from the sidewalk behind them. "Maybe…fighting isn't the answer."</p><p>Raven released Jinx's head. "One moment," she said. "One chance. One choice. That's the difference, between everything I am…and everything that never was. One choice that saved my life, maybe the universe. And one that nearly ended it."</p><p>Jinx moved toward her, but the empath turned partly away.</p><p>"This is the best…possible…version of me, and I have to work <em>every day</em> to keep it that way. I didn't save the Titans because it was the right thing to do. I did it because <em>I wanted to do it</em>. That's why I come here: for perspective. To remind me of the importance of every…decision…I make. That I'm at my best when I'm not thinking of what I want…" she looked down at the cathedral, "…and of what can happen when I do."</p><p>"Okay…" Jinx said, trying to make sense of things. "Thank you…for showin' me all that…" she offered, not really sure what else to say.</p><p>Raven's conviction gave way to something closer to sheepishness. "I guess this isn't really what you meant when you asked to go out, but… I…wanted to bring you here, to help you understand how careful I need to be, and why."</p><p>Jinx moved forward, raising her arms in preparation, but stopped when Raven made to do the same; she smiled, giggling lightly. "You're new, so…lemme show ya." Guiding down the empath's arms, she held her instead.</p><p>For her part, Raven just followed cues as best she could and let it happen. Even hugs, it turned out, had their own subtle language she hadn't been aware of: who embraced whom, whether both parties did, seemingly determined by the situation and who intended to comfort whom.</p><p>Lots to learn.</p><p>One hand moved from where it had been on her shoulder and came to rest gently on the back of her head.</p><p>Reassurance and relaxation radiated from her partner.</p><p>Raven relaxed in response, letting her eyes shut and her head nestle in, and then realized. "You're manipulating me."</p><p>"Hm?" Jinx asked, going for innocent but landing closer to someone caught in the cookie jar.</p><p>Raven let out an entirely unconvincing grumble, which would've been even less so had Jinx been able to see her peaceful smile, otherwise content to soak in the emotions—manipulative or not.</p><p>Some people wore makeup, or styled their hair certain ways, wore certain clothes, used perfumes or certain tones of voice or body language to send signals to their partners, influence the ways their partners felt. Raven almost found it funny; she had long considered herself immune to such shallow attempts.</p><p>Jinx, as it turned out, had managed the emotions she'd broadcasted to achieve a similar end, effectively taking the one thing Raven had always considered her most unfair person-to-person advantage and turning it against her.</p><p>Maybe it wasn't so unfair after all.</p><p>Still, it…wasn't bad, either.</p><p>The pair recoiled at a golden light that pierced the encroaching eve. Their eyes adjusted in time to catch a glimpse of the monolithic ankh and the figure silhouetted against it. The figure hovered in place as the portal vanished, and Raven removed herself from Jinx's hold and stepped forward.</p><p>Fate, it seemed, had finally come knocking.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Pride and Prejudice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clad in blue and shining gold, Doctor Fate floated in the air before them, eyes, expression and intent concealed in equal measure behind his helmet.</p><p>A surge of emotions from her companion washed over the empath: shock, awe, even worry. Raven, however, put them aside. After all, she could see little sense in worrying. In fact, just the opposite, she found herself filled with a growing sense of relief.</p><p>The events surrounding her father's arrival and subsequent defeat had done wonders in helping her to feel supported—outwardly. The sad and inescapable truth, though, was that the greater part of that battle was not outward at all. And in that inward war, she had always been alone.</p><p>But now, she saw a finish line of sorts. A checkpoint, at the very least. Perhaps not someone to shoulder the burden for her, but someone who could tell her the score. Not the biased opinion or half-baked morality of some random individual spewed from a soapbox, but the honest estimation of a Lord of Order.</p><p>Did she really crave judgment that badly?</p><p>Something inside her rankled at the thought, disgusted and insulted.</p><p>Validation, then? That her life, all her work had amounted to something more than could have been accomplished by removing herself from the equation right from the start. Recognition, assurance even, that she had not merely managed to avoid becoming a negative but that her existence was indeed a net positive.</p><p>There was solace in it, somehow. In presenting the sum of herself for evaluation from perhaps the only being whose appraisal she could accept. Not enough that she might ever have gone out of her way to pursue it, perhaps, but enough that she would welcome it, given the opportunity.</p><p>She stepped forward.</p><p>Fate descended, stopping short of landing to float above the rooftop. "Ladies," he greeted.</p><p>Speechless, Jinx raised an unsteady hand in hello.</p><p>"Thank you…for your time," Raven said. "I didn't expect you so quickly. Or…at all, really, if I'm being honest. Part of me even doubted the League would pass on my request."</p><p>Fate touched down, lightly brushing himself off. "Oh, I'm sure they will, once they've settled their internal deliberations on the matter. Until then, I thought I would come ahead. Take the initiative, as it were."</p><p>Raven's brow tensed in thought as she processed the implications of Fate's statement. "You've been spying," she concluded.</p><p>"Observing," Fate corrected, somewhat defensively. "Tactfully…yes. Since a hole was ripped between this dimension and your father's."</p><p>Raven turned her eyes downcast. "Sorry…"</p><p>"Ditto," Jinx chimed in.</p><p>"Nothing of the sort," Fate waived aside their apology. "A rather pleasant surprise, as a matter of fact, to be reminded that the universe need not always be in peril, that some ultimate evil need not always be lurking behind every cosmic goings-on, that sometimes an accident may simply be…an accident." His tone conveyed a peaceful smile behind the helm. "Quite refreshing, if <em>I </em>am being honest."</p><p>"All right…" Raven conceded, not totally sure what to make of a man called Fate who took comfort in accidents.</p><p>"Now, ah, I'm sure that you have questions—certainly, we've much to discuss—but before that, I wonder…would you mind?" Fate asked, holding up his right hand in a way that suggested Raven should understand his meaning.</p><p>And she did. Or at least, she suspected. He was asking permission, to peer at recent events not only through her eyes, but through her mind. Actions, considerations, thoughts however fleeting, he would sift through them all and gather a much clearer understanding of the situation than any words might have conveyed, and considerably more quickly.</p><p>She consented with a nod, and Fate moved forward and placed a hand over her head, touching one finger to the crown.</p><p>The process lasted only a few moments, Jinx apprehensive in the background but trusting that Raven knew what she was doing.</p><p>In reality, Raven did nothing at all, experienced no unusual sensations or dredged-up imagery or memories, a subtle sensation in her chakras the only giveaway to Fate's work—a deftly subtle touch, his.</p><p>His finger lifted. "I see," he said, then turned to Jinx, who put on a distinctly deer-in-headlights look.</p><p>She pointed to herself. "Who? Me?"</p><p>"If you wouldn't mind," Fate told her.</p><p>"Uh…" The guttural utterance dribbled dumbly from Jinx's mouth while she turned to her partner for help. A nod from Raven, and she took a preparatory breath. "Sure, I guess…"</p><p>Fate moved toward her.</p><p>Her anxiety spiked, and she began a lengthy list of apologies for some of the things he might find poking around in her head.</p><p>Fate only chuckled. "You needn't worry."</p><p>Jinx swallowed as Fate went to work on her; then, her eyes darted around a bit, as though whatever she'd been waiting for had failed to come. "Should, uh…should I—"</p><p>"Just a moment," Fate told her kindly. "You're doing fine."</p><p>Raven caught herself cracking a smile when Jinx shivered like a cat from tail to tip, probably a product of the unfamiliar sensation of having her chakras activated and utilized.</p><p>"Hmm." Fate removed his hand, stepped back a bit, and bowed deeply. "Thank you both for your cooperation."</p><p>"Yeah…" Jinx said, suppressing another shiver.</p><p>A few seconds, perhaps half a minute or so, passed as Fate seemed to contemplate, his cape dancing regally in the breeze. Then, he approached the nearby edge of the rooftop and hovered there, in a very familiar pose.</p><p>Raven waited, although she wasn't sure for what.</p><p>"Would you care to join me?" Fate asked.</p><p>Like she'd missed a segue, Raven nonetheless took up her hovering lotus position beside their guest, more curious than focused on any sort of meditation.</p><p>"I, uh…can't float," Jinx said.</p><p>"Ah, yes," Fate replied knowingly. "Ours is the obligation to do all we can, and the right to have no more expected of us."</p><p>Taking the hint, Jinx sat down beside Raven, the empath hovering several feet above and beside her. She tried to meditate. Or what she understood meditate to mean, anyway. Or at least look like it.</p><p>Raven, meanwhile, even despite the situation, found herself distracted by something she hadn't really anticipated: Fate's <em>blankness</em>. A complete and utter lack of empathic feedback, an empty void in space like she hadn't ever felt from a living thing. Whether from a spell or through sheer discipline, she couldn't say. But for all psychic intents and purposes, he wasn't even <em>there</em>.</p><p>"Wonder, confusion, curiosity…" Fate mused aloud.</p><p>For a moment, Raven considered the words, and then realized: he was reading her.</p><p>"Realization," Fate said sagely but pleasantly, the word breathed in the crisp, clean air atop a misty mountain. "Points of interest along our journey toward enlightenment. Yours has been a confounding path of late, I understand. Please, tell me."</p><p>Raven peeked one eye open skeptically. "Didn't you just…?"</p><p>"I have seen the storm," Fate affirmed. "I thought we might navigate it together."</p><p>"All right…" Raven said.</p><p>"Focus," Fate advised gently.</p><p>Raven closed her eyes again with a measured exhale. A few moments later, she focused. Not on the present, as meditation often did, but shifted her focus inward. The way she always did since she had begun seeking oneness with her emotions, she arrived not in Nevermore, but in the primordial soup beyond, the vast void-sea of thoughts, feelings, and the memories that inspired them for which Nevermore acted as a filtering lens, providing shape and order. Here, they flowed freely, ran rampant in surges and churning swells, dragging her along their currents and, occasionally, submerging her entirely.</p><p>The more she struggled for purchase, to right herself, the larger and more frequent the waves became: the more powerful the thoughts, the feelings, the pushes and pulls, and the more difficulty she had recovering her bearing. Her guts slid up into her stomach as she felt herself pulled up along a gathering riptide; when the resulting wave crashed, her eyes snapped open with a gasp, her focus broken.</p><p>She frowned.</p><p>She just couldn't…get any sort of foothold, any semblance of form, anywhere to <em>start</em>. It was just…an <em>ocean</em>: fluid, impossible to grasp, and far too—</p><p>"The jnana mudra," Fate observed almost reverently, commenting on her pose. "A gift from the monks?"</p><p>"Yes…" Raven replied, keenly aware of some circuitous tactic at play but unsure of its precise design. "Peace, and mental stability."</p><p>Fate offered a nod, demonstrating the form. "The individual consciousness and the universal consciousness, the touching thumb and forefinger a symbol of the connection between the two—the mudra of knowledge. An interesting choice," he added.</p><p>Raven said nothing, only considered. It had been a long time since she'd had a teacher, and it took some effort to ignore her knee-jerk distaste. Instead, she took in Fate's own pose: the dhyana typical of statues of the Buddha.</p><p>The mudra of balance.</p><p>Just like that, she understood his intent: her meditation wasn't working because she was doing it <em>wrong</em>. Or at least, approaching it incorrectly.</p><p>Non-Euclidean…</p><p>She'd had that thought, that realization before, and here she sat, still making the same mistake, still trying to force this new, alien thing into the same approach to self-understanding she had applied all her life. At the same time, recognizing the need to push past Nevermore, but then using the mudra that <em>was</em> Nevermore—and wondering why it didn't work.</p><p>Of course it didn't. She was speaking the wrong language, beginning the journey on a path that did not, could not lead to the destination she sought. Using the wrong lens and wondering why it all seemed so unclear.</p><p>Nevermore gave her peace through separation, knowledge via the critical analysis of those separated parts—holding pieces of herself at arm's length to observe, understand, and ultimately shelve them. To that end, it had served her well over her lifetime.</p><p>But it could not lead to oneness. It could not, by its nature, offer the completeness she sought. For that, she needed balance.</p><p>Her lips turned down in a momentary frown at the thought, one that she could no longer avoid if she wished to progress, that part of her had <em>continued</em> to avoid even just a few moments earlier: this was not something she could master by removing herself from it or by chaining it down with iron will.</p><p>Biting back her insecurity, she committed, copied Fate's pose, and dove in again.</p><p>She focused on her breathing—in, and out—did not surrender herself to that tempestuous sea, but did not struggle against it. No attempt made to analyze, she allowed each thought and urge the simple acknowledgment of carrying her along, treated them each as valid without any need for justification.</p><p>But…she'd had that realization before, as well. To do exactly that. Why, then, had she not?</p><p>Foreign and fleeting, the questions wove through Raven's mind. More words flowed through her.</p><p>Denial, yes. Clearly. But, why? Why deny a truth she knew to insist upon an approach she'd known could not work?</p><p>Her heart quickened with anxiety.</p><p>Worry… Hesitation… Why?</p><p>The answer flashed into her mind in an instant, a reflex responding to the question: balance.</p><p>Balance frightened her? Some part, yes.</p><p>That was stupid. Wasn't that what she wanted, what this whole thing had been about? Wasn't balance a <em>good</em> thing?</p><p>Sometimes…</p><p>Okay… And…other times?</p><p>Having since dissolved into the water, Raven jolted slightly at finding herself whole again, and surrounded no longer by a sea of thoughts and feelings, but of stars.</p><p>Space.</p><p>Whoa…</p><p>Her mouth twisted in frustration.</p><p>So close… She had been so <em>close</em>… On the right path, at least. And then—</p><p>Hit a snag.</p><p>Awareness came to her subtly but steadily, the unmistakable reaching out of her empathic senses, but to a degree she could barely <em>conceive</em>. Slowly at first, it grew exponentially until she could no longer discern its limit, or even if it had one. She felt…everything…</p><p>Her senses reached out; they, the universe, reached back—and wept. By virtue of sheer volume, the individuals within her range blended and merged into a single, amalgamated ball of sorrow, of hopeless resignation.</p><p>Visions materialized in her mind: visions of conquest, of victories, of peoples, planets, and whole star systems subjugated and brought to heel, of gods challenged, torn down, and bound in preparation for the moment close at hand. They cried out in collective anguish, bleeding their strength, offering their immortal lifeblood to fuel the ritual in progress.</p><p>It took shape in her mind's eye: whole galaxies gutted and rearranged, a lifetime of preparation—the stars themselves moved and realigned into a ritual circle of cosmic proportion that would not simply summon but build a permanent <em>bridge</em> between dimensions and allow free passage.</p><p>Turning in place, Raven found a black hole in the indeterminable distance; much closer, a figure floated, facing it.</p><p>The <em>snag</em>.</p><p>"You could say that," she muttered to herself.</p><p>Roadblock, more like.</p><p>She floated closer to the figure: herself. Older, although by exactly how much she found it difficult to tell.</p><p>It didn't react; its four-eyed gaze held forward—red, glowing, and utterly unperturbed.</p><p>"I get it," Raven said aloud.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Raven floated in front of the image. "I want balance. To achieve that, there are certain things I need to…confront."</p><p>Again, nothing.</p><p>In annoyance, Raven moved up to put herself at eye-level; she narrowed hers. "You're in my way."</p><p>A satisfied smirk.</p><p>A fire crackled in Raven's chest, stoked and kindled from somewhere outside, a force pouring into her.</p><p>As if in response, words burned across her mind, a prophecy spelled out in runes seared onto her soul.</p><p>"No," Raven said, calm but definitive.</p><p>The image turned its head slightly, just a glance, leveling its stare almost in amusement.</p><p>"No," she said again, this time very nearly in challenge.</p><p>"To what?" it asked, giving Raven its full attention.</p><p>"To you. Him. <em>This</em>." Raven motioned wide around them.</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Because I say so!" Raven replied with force, tired of the back-and-forth; the universe around them seemed to ripple at the outburst.</p><p>"Good!" it bellowed back, any trace of amusement entirely gone. "Finally! Show a little <em>pride</em> for once in your miserable existence." It drew closer. "Now she wants to talk… Fine. I've been waiting."</p><p>"You—" Raven bit off her retort, cut short and caught off guard by the remark. "What?"</p><p>"What are you really afraid of?" it asked.</p><p>Memories flashed, moments of lost control.</p><p>"No!" it declared. "Be honest! Give yourself at least <em>that </em>much respect."</p><p>Raven furrowed her brow at what sounded like disgust in its tone.</p><p>Behind it, the black hole thrummed, gathering strength.</p><p>"I—"</p><p>"You lie to them. Lie to yourself. But you do <em>not</em> lie to me. I have spent my entire <em>life</em> choked down, bit back and chained in every dark corner of your mind. I <em>know</em>," it promised her.</p><p>"Know w—" Raven started when it struck like black, silent lightning, suddenly inches away and looming over her.</p><p>"You <em>claim</em> you're afraid of losing control. You <em>claim</em> you're afraid of <em>me</em>," Pride hissed. "Well, which is it?"</p><p>"B—"</p><p>"Don't lie to me!" Pride roared in her face, then grew calm. "Think. In every vision you've ever had, in this—the <em>worst case</em>—have I ever looked out…of control? In all those <em>memories</em>," it spat the word with wearisome frustration, "have you ever really felt out…of control?"</p><p>Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.</p><p>"Lies…" Pride growled, pushing the advance. "All <em>lies</em>… Reservoirs, dams bursting—excuses, convenient metaphors just plausible enough to let you continue avoiding the truth." It pulled back some, seemingly satisfied by the way Raven's jaw had snapped shut at the accusation. "Light. Last night. Even this." It lifted its hands limply and let them fall. "You aren't afraid you'll lose control. You're afraid you won't."</p><p>Without realizing it, Raven had balled her hands into fists, clinging tightly to that fire, that assurance still being stoked from outside.</p><p>Pride's hostility, all its venom fell away, and it spoke in simple, honest observation, turning to face the black hole in contemplation. "It's easy…to blame our actions on a loss of control. Safe, to disconnect ourselves from our mistakes. I didn't do it. I wasn't thinking. That isn't me. The alternative…admitting what we might— what we're <em>capable </em>of justifying when we feel too much, too strongly, it's…terrifying." It paused, then added, "And insulting."</p><p>At that, Raven looked up, confused.</p><p>Pride turned to her again, its form straight-backed and confident once more. "You're not here to confront me. You're here to confront your deepest, most well-tended insecurity, the real reason you could never <em>stomach </em>me: not shame, but a lack of self-respect. You don't trust yourself." It shook its head, as though unable to understand. "We saved the universe—defied <em>prophecy</em>," it implored her with growing vigor. "Defeated father, <em>together</em>. I was <em>born</em> that day. Is this really how you see me?"</p><p>Raven blinked in surprise, suddenly staring herself in the face—her real self, blue cloak and all, just as she was. Behind the new Pride, a shadow floated facing the black hole.</p><p>Pride smiled, a real smile, although small. "Pride can come from many places." It looked back over its shoulder at the shadow hovering wordlessly. "Pride in our heritage, in the life we were handed." It faced her again. "Pride in <em>ourselves</em>, in the life we have made."</p><p>Raven felt something swell in her chest.</p><p>After a moment to savor something, Pride spoke again. "Stop focusing on <em>what</em> we are. Take pride in who we have chosen to <em>be</em>."</p><p>Raven relaxed, releasing herself and letting her shoulders fall. "Okay," she said, then chuckled once to herself. "Even after I met the others, got to know them, cared about them, for the longest time, I thought I was the only one I would ever really be able to trust. But…it turns out I guess I never really did that either."</p><p>Pride offered a shrug. "You should. Whatever else we are, we're something worth believing in."</p><p>Raven nodded graciously. "Thank you."</p><p>Pride only smiled more broadly.</p><p>She blinked again, and Pride was gone. In a swirl of blended colors, so was the rest of the scene, swept away in the tide.</p><p>On the rooftop, Raven opened her eyes.</p><p>Fate loosed a quiet, contented sigh.</p><p>Raven floated down to stand on the roof. She looked up at Fate. "Thank you."</p><p>Fate offered a dignified half-nod. "Well," he said. "I believe I should go, allow you time to reflect."</p><p>Raven nodded, working through exactly that even as they spoke.</p><p>"The League will be in touch, I'm sure," Fate told her. "Through Robin, I imagine. They'll likely have reached their decision by now."</p><p>"Thank you again for your help," Raven said.</p><p>"A catalyst, nothing more," Fate brushed aside the compliment. "But you are quite welcome, just the same. Ladies." Bowing as he floated higher, he summoned a portal and bid them farewell before passing through and leaving them alone in the fledgling light of dawn.</p><p>Their meditation, it seemed, had lasted longer than she'd realized.</p><p>Raven lingered a few seconds on where Fate had vanished, allowing her mind time to process what she had glimpsed: illuminated by the brilliant light of the portal, a hand-sized paper doll in Fate's center. She understood then why she had been unable to read him: he had never really been there.</p><p>The realization only served to impress her more. It did, however, beg the question as to why he had elected not to come in person.</p><p>Meeting with the League? Something else?</p><p>With him, she supposed guessing would be pointless anyway.</p><p>Instead, she turned her attention to Jinx, unsteadily rising to her feet. She considered helping but, not wanting to offend, decided that Jinx would ask, if she wanted it. "Are you all right?"</p><p>Jinx held her head with one hand. "Sorta… Gotta say, ya hear people talk about meditation or whatever, but uh…"</p><p>"Most meditation isn't like that," Raven told her. "Mine is…"</p><p>"Complicated, uh-huh," Jinx finished for her. "Got it."</p><p>"I wouldn't normally take a novice through something so intense, even by proxy, but…Fate seemed to think including you would be beneficial," Raven explained.</p><p>Her stupor easing away, Jinx looked to her companion. "And…was it?"</p><p>Raven smiled a bit, unsure whether the light blush she felt was visible. "Yes. Thank you."</p><p>"Anytime, I guess. I don't really get it, but…" Jinx thought a moment. "I mean, what did any of…<em>that</em>…have to do with, y'know, balance or whatever? That's what set ya off, right?"</p><p>Raven nodded. "At least, I thought so at the time. What you saw <em>was</em> balance, taken to the extreme: an end for every beginning, that version of me using the concept of cosmic balance to justify taking pride in its purpose."</p><p>"Okay… I'm glad you're feelin' better or whatever, but like…what does it all, y'know…mean?"</p><p>Raven turned her eyes down to one side a moment in thought. "It means…I was afraid—but not of what I thought I was."</p><p>And that maybe, if she was correct now, there had never been anything to be afraid of, after all. As much as that seemed, to her more pessimistic leanings, too good to be true. But she had made a decision, a promise to a part of herself that had earned its right to stand up and be recognized. And she would honor it.</p><p>"So…what now?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven drew a deep, cleansing breath, allowing herself time to let it out slowly, before responding. "Now, we go home."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Grudge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When her soul-self saw them both safely returned to her room and Jinx had excused herself to freshen up in the restroom, Raven stood in motionless examination of the objects set conspicuously upon her nightstand: a pair of iron manacles.</p><p>She examined them not as much out of surprise that they were there as out of curiosity, the curiosity of what they had once represented to her versus what they represented to her now. Once security, now insecurity. Self-preservation, now self-flagellation. The willingness to introduce her own magic bullet into the world: the ultimate respect for her potential, the ultimate disrespect for herself.</p><p>No, maybe not so much that last one. It still was practical, after all. As uncomfortable as it may have made her, no one should've been above reproach. Checks and balances.</p><p>It did make her uncomfortable, though; even just the short trip from her nightstand into a fabric pouch—done by hand when her powers would not affect them—caused a warm, tingling sensation on her fingertips, one she imagined would have eventually progressed to burning. She supposed she could have just asked Jinx to move them, but the sensation faded quickly enough.</p><p>Her communicator sounded. Flipping it open, she saw Cyborg with a look of concern.</p><p>"We've got a problem," he said. "I just got through processing the ore we needed. I was about to get it and your sample all packed up, but—"</p><p>"It's all right," Raven interrupted, assuming he was about to tell her he hadn't been able to find her sample.</p><p>His concern turned to confusion. "Okay…"</p><p>"It's…been taken care of," she said. "Thanks for your help."</p><p>"Uh…no problem, I guess. If you're sure."</p><p>"I'm sure."</p><p>Still obviously unclear, Cyborg seemed to take the new development in stride at her assurance. Then, his face shrank off to one side when Robin's cut in.</p><p>"Team meeting. Living room. Five minutes." Robin cut out again.</p><p>"See ya in five," Cyborg said after a moment, then signed off as well.</p><p>Raven closed her communicator.</p><p>"Ya know, kinda hard to believe I'm the first one to think these things could use a, 'Do not disturb,' mode or somethin'," Jinx complained as she entered the room, pocketing her communicator. Seeing the pouch in Raven's hand, she confirmed its contents with a wordless look. "That was quick," she said.</p><p>Raven sat on the edge of her bed. "I…wanted to apologize."</p><p>"For what?" Jinx joined her.</p><p>"You asked me to take you somewhere fun," Raven said.</p><p>"I asked ya to take me somewhere ya liked," Jinx corrected her.</p><p>"You asked me to date you," Raven went on with an air of finality. "Instead, I took you to the place where I ended the world and then hijacked your date and sent it careening into my baggage. That wasn't my intention. I mean, I wanted you to understand, to <em>help</em> you understand <em>me</em> and why, no matter what happens, <em>fun</em> in the typical sense probably won't ever really be on the table, but I—"</p><p>"Hey, I get it," Jinx stopped her, putting on the breaks when she sensed Raven unable to find her own. "And I appreciate it, all of…that." She giggled a little. "Helpin' each other out, even if it's just bein' somebody around to talk to, bounce thoughts off of, vent to, whatever—I mean, I know you're new to this, but—that's part of what it means to, y'know, be <em>with</em> somebody. It's, like, in my job description or whatever. Not that it's some kinda obligation!" She caught herself after the fact, then scratched her head with a groan. "Ah, jeez… I'm not the best at explainin' things like this…"</p><p>Raven, however, allowed the information to pass from her ears, into her mind and through the mechanisms therein, processing it: cutting, picking it apart and sorting it into something orderly and digestible. "If being with someone means caring deeply about them, then supporting them is both a responsibility and a privilege, something not only expected of you—not merely an obligation—but something that you genuinely <em>want</em>, maybe even feel honored, to be able to do."</p><p>Jinx relaxed, relieved. "Y— Uh…yeah."</p><p>Raven smiled.</p><p>"So…what happens? When we go out there," Jinx asked. "I mean, Bird Boy has his meeting. Presumably the League is involved. But, like…what about <em>me</em>? What do I do? Besides stand there and look pretty."</p><p>Raven deflated some. "I don't know."</p><p>And that was the truth of it, the part that really terrified her. Maybe it always had been: not knowing. For all her promises to herself, it was…difficult…to do something, <em>anything</em> entirely on faith and with no real way to plan ahead, predict, or prepare. For as willing as she was now to take the plunge and do it, the prospect of closing her eyes and falling backward, even—maybe especially—into her own arms, evoked a very particular kind of fear: one that she had spent most of her life conditioning herself to associate with the unforgivable danger.</p><p>"Well…whaddaya <em>want</em> me to do?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven thought about it, then managed a tiny smile again. "Stand there."</p><p>Jinx smiled back, fully aware that, while the empath may've said <em>stand</em>, she had meant <em>be</em>. Be there, like she had been earlier at the church, with Fate and with their mediation. Just be there. Her smile turned shrewd. "And look pretty?"</p><p>Raven shrugged.</p><p>Jinx stood up into her most formal posture. "Madam, a privilege."</p><p>Not long after, the two made their way to the living area where they found most of the others already waiting. Beast Boy was last to arrive. They stood, rather than sit, in the main area between the television and the couch, all eyes on Robin, who stood with jaw locked and arms crossed.</p><p>He, in turn, made a clear point of eyeing the pouch in Raven's hand.</p><p>She tossed it to him.</p><p>He opened it, confirmed the contents, and then looked up at her, waiting or perhaps, to the initiated, already engaged with her in a conversation of sorts that no one could hear. It was clear he had immediately parsed the meaning of her handing them over rather than keeping them: while she recognized their necessity, at least in the eyes of him and others like him, she did not intend to use them the way they had planned.</p><p>The rest of the group seemed to hold its breath while Robin weighed the situation.</p><p>"Can I trust you?" he asked.</p><p>Raven gave a single, deliberate nod without ever breaking her eye contact.</p><p>He narrowed his eyes. "How can I be sure?" His tone, firm but not malicious, made it clear to anyone listening that he didn't ask because he wanted to ask, but because he <em>had</em> to ask it.</p><p>"Because I trust me," Raven told him.</p><p>He raised his chin slightly at the response, and then, after a moment, leveled it again with a simple, "Okay."</p><p>As the others allowed themselves to resume breathing, Robin adjusted his body language to address them all, returning to business as usual as though the tension of seconds earlier had never existed.</p><p>"As some of you may know, earlier today, I reached out to the League at Raven's request," Robin explained, then grew more serious. "As it turns out, they were expecting my call. However it happened, they're aware of our situation, and have taken an interest."</p><p>The warmth of blood grew in Raven's cheeks; the muscles in her stomach gnarled into tight, twisted knots. Taken an <em>interest</em>? They had taken an <em>interest</em>?</p><p>Her heart pounded out a war-drum's rhythm as anger and sharp, biting cynicism surged into her. True to her commitments, or at least trying to be, she did not resist it or hold it back, but did her best to work it, that molten metal, to temper it.</p><p>"They're sending an envoy," Robin continued.</p><p>Brows went up in surprise.</p><p>"Whoa… The Justice League is coming <em>here</em>?" Beast Boy asked, incredulous. "Like, Superman? For real?"</p><p>Cyborg folded his arms. "When?"</p><p>Robin's lips tightened in annoyance. "About fifteen minutes ago."</p><p>A side-door to the living area swished open. Through it, four figures entered the room: Batman, Fate and Zatanna, led in front by the Man of Steel himself.</p><p>Her empathic awareness of him left little question whether Fate was really there this time. She could feel him now, could feel all of them, although their proximity, her distance, and the amorphous nature of their feelings made it difficult to identify which came from whom: wariness, uncertainty, doubt, that…stalwart mix of resolve and companionship that, taken alongside the others, usually indicated one placing one's faith in the judgement of a close friend.</p><p>Fate stood out, at least: a placid pool of calm.</p><p>Zatanna made her own impression, too: a vintage certainty Raven typically associated with the reaffirmation of an old decision. She hadn't changed.</p><p>Raven's head jerked reflexively to look when something touched her shoulder; she found Robin's hand. Behind him—behind her—were the others. Jinx hadn't moved either, but she appeared distinctly struck by the sudden appearance of the brand-name heroes. Even Beast Boy seemed to recognize the mood enough to withhold the prodigious desire she could feel to <em>freak out</em> and start asking for autographs.</p><p>The newcomers drew to a halt before the Titans.</p><p>"Ladies," Fate greeted with the slightest bow.</p><p>Raven returned the gesture.</p><p>"My apologies for what amounts to inviting ourselves," he went on. "Bad form, I know, but there are certain conversations I believe ought to be had. And, unfortunately, given the nature of the problem and a demonstrated proclivity for overthinking, I hope you can at least understand why I thought the surprise necessary."</p><p>Like everyone else, Raven remained silent, for her own part trying to unravel Fate's game.</p><p>While the rest of them stood where they were, Fate strode to the couch, hovering cross-legged a foot or so above it in the air. He gestured, and a tea set materialized on the coffee table; a cup poured itself before floating, along with a small plate, up to his hands. He appeared to drink, though no one moved to ask how through his helmet. "Now," he said, "please understand. I am here only as a mediator. To ensure we all remain civil. My only requirement is honesty—with each other, and with ourselves."</p><p>Raven caught his meaning easily enough, and took it to heart whether she meant to or not. The sudden appearance of the envoy, the memories and emotions it evoked, surged <em>hard</em>. Had she resorted to her old methods of trying to stand in their way, she had little doubt she would have been bowled over and sent hurtling under the current. Instead, she allowed them their due and focused merely on riding them out.</p><p>She found it…captivating, somehow, like putting one's hand to aquarium glass with a shark just beyond. Never had she allowed herself so close to that…<em>rage</em>. It occurred to her then that, while she knew very well what it meant to be <em>consumed</em> by it, she had never really <em>felt</em> it before.</p><p>"There will be no sparing of feelings," Fate told them all, nicely but definitively. "No pulling of punches or half-hearted hedging. I would also ask that, eager as we all may be to defend our compatriots, those of us not involved in a conversation yield the floor to those of us who are. Save myself, perhaps, should it seem necessary given my role. Now, who would like to speak first?"</p><p>No one moved. No mouths opened. No eyes blinked.</p><p>"I think she's earned that privilege," Batman offered, arms folded, when no one else did.</p><p>Raven's heart skipped at the prospect. If she opened her mouth now, what would she say?</p><p>"I agree," Fate said. "Raven?"</p><p>Resolved to see it through, Raven set her eyes on Zatanna, whose grimace sagged into a scowl. Confidence, pride in herself, took hold of that rage and brought the hammer down as it writhed on the forge. "You lost any right to judge me when you refused to help me, so you can wipe that look off your face, or you can turn around and walk away. Because this is my home, you were <em>not</em> invited, and those are your options. Choose one. Or I will choose one of mine."</p><p>In response, Zatanna exchanged for a look of concern and sighed. "There is so much evil in you."</p><p>"<em>In</em> me," Raven emphasized; the hammer came down. "Evil is my heritage, <em>not</em> my identity. I reached out to you!"</p><p>"I stand by my reading," Zatanna said. "Although, I do admit I may have…made a mistake…in how I handled it. I regret that, and I'm sorry."</p><p>She pumped the billows. "Regret what, exactly? That you turned away a scared child? Or that you let your arrogance put the entire <em>universe</em> at risk because you wouldn't listen?"</p><p>"Does it matter?" Zatanna asked.</p><p>"It matters to me!" The hammer fell again; sparks flew.</p><p>The tower briefly lost power.</p><p>"I believe what Raven is implying," Fate interjected as the lights came back on, "is that one suggests sympathy toward her personally, while the other suggests regret for what amounts to a workplace error."</p><p>Zatanna's expression softened to something distinctly more genuine, looking away. "Both, I guess… I don't know, okay?" She turned her eyes on Raven again. "What do you want me to say? That I was distracted by some mission I can barely remember? That the evil I sensed spiked the needle so hard I didn't even <em>notice</em> the power? That, as far as <em>I</em> was concerned, you weren't even human? That—"</p><p>"I'm not human!" Raven declared in a voice far from that. "Neither is he!" she said of the kryptonian. "Neither is half the League! Why—"</p><p>"I made a mistake!" Zatanna cut in. "I thought you were just some half-baked trap! I was dealing with demons at the time! It wasn't so far-fetched! What else do you want me to say?"</p><p>"I want you to apologize!" Raven roared.</p><p>"I did!"</p><p>"I want you to mean it!" Several lights in the room flashed and popped—<em>clang</em>, the hammer fell.</p><p>"I—" Starting strong, Zatanna quickly lost fervor, "…do…"</p><p>"Liar…" Raven seethed.</p><p>Zatanna winced at the accusation. "I'm not…"</p><p>"You <em>are</em>…!" Raven's fists, curled at her sides beneath her cloak, splayed into clawed hands; her teeth ground together, and an unnatural darkness expanded from her spot to steadily creep over the room and its occupants. "I don't know whether to be more furious or insulted! That you would lie to my <em>face</em>, or that you would think I wouldn't notice!"</p><p>The billows blew, stoking the flame. Compelled—driven—she threw her feelings down upon the anvil and brought the tempering hammer of her pride down again and again, relentless, single-minded in her <em>need</em> to complete the task now while the metal was hot: all that she had suffered, all that she had done, every memory of every heartache and hardship, she had overcome them all—<em>she</em> had—kept going, persevered through all of it.</p><p>She could do this, too.</p><p>"I was so scared…so alone…" Her voice quavered.</p><p><em>Clang</em>.</p><p>"Every time I saw you on the news, I had hope," she went on. "If I could just find you, one of you, anyone… I looked up to you!"</p><p><em>Clang</em>.</p><p>"When I finally found someone, it took me almost two hours before I could even get up the <em>confidence</em> to reveal myself. And when I did, what did you do?"</p><p><em>Clang</em>.</p><p>"What did you do?!"</p><p><strong><em>Clang</em></strong>.</p><p>"You turned me away! Brushed me off like I was nothing!"</p><p>An explosion of black swallowed them all, isolating them and blotting out all sight.</p><p>A pause, a moment to consider her work. And then, from the depths of herself, a series of finer taps.</p><p>"I wasn't just…<em>not</em> worth saving," Raven's voice, quiet and broken, trailed from somewhere in the dark. "I wasn't worth anything… Do you know what that does to a person? What it almost drove me to do?"</p><p><em>Hiss</em>. She plunged the cooling metal into the waters of a newfound calm, quenching it.</p><p>"Rachel."</p><p>Fate's tone, while gentle and understanding, was imbued with a parental authority she had not felt since childhood at the use of her name. The dark retreated in a blink, leaving them all as they had been.</p><p>"If I may," Fate interjected again. "I believe what Zatanna is suggesting is that, while she is sincere in her apology and genuine in her remorse for what she admits was a poor decision, she has difficulty allowing herself to feel, much less express, those things toward an individual of demonic parentage. She struggles in a similar way with Etrigan, and it is a personal journey for her to overcome those interpersonal shortcomings, although she is continuing to try. I imagine you can sympathize with some part of that?"</p><p>And as she stood there, her eyes returning to their usual number and color, Raven realized that she could. While she had not forgiven Zatanna, necessarily, or perhaps ever would, she could at least understand. More than that, the simple act of having said what she'd said felt…good. Without her father's influence to fuel it, she had allowed her anger its due, said her peace, and felt better for it.</p><p>She nodded once.</p><p>"Good," Fate said kindly. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, Superman has arranged for his part to be broadcast throughout the city, assuming no one here objects."</p><p>No one did.</p><p>"Excellent," Fate approved.</p><p>At a glance from Fate, Batman hurled a small device that landed on a wall nearby and began blinking, then gave a silent go-ahead.</p><p>Superman stepped forward.</p><p>"Citizens of Jump City, in the interest of doing the right thing, your mayor has generously agreed to assist us in airing this message. You know who I am. I represent the Justice League, a group of individuals who, among other things, are often idolized as role models for the values we strive to represent. Several years ago, someone came to us for help, and we fell far short of those values. You know her…as Raven. And since then, she has gone on not only to dedicate herself to protecting you and your city, but to step in when we couldn't and save a world that, at one time—in part because of our failure—she was convinced would be better off without her. I'm here today, on behalf of the Justice League, to apologize to all of you, and to her."</p><p>Raven flinched when, in <em>less</em> than a blink, Superman towered before her.</p><p>He looked down, then knelt and met her eye-to-eye. "I am so very sorry, for everything you've gone through." He reached out and hugged her.</p><p>Raven's arms dangled loosely at her sides in a kind of shock.</p><p>Suddenly, Raven felt a spell being cast and found herself drawn into memory. She saw a meeting room with a long table and heroes seated on either side. A projection played in the center: herself and Jinx on the cathedral, from Fate's perspective.</p><p>They had seen it all.</p><p>The meeting, the deliberations Fate had talked about, she and Jinx had been a part of it in real time without ever realizing.</p><p>Then, she snapped back into the moment.</p><p>"I try to imagine myself," Superman went on, more quietly now, "if I had landed here alone, never met my mother, my father, never had a family, who I might have been, how it might have been different. To have come through it the way you have, you are an incredible, amazing person, and anyone—myself included—would be <em>inspired</em> to know you."</p><p>Superman's words struck home. And from outside, she sensed something else: a feeling, a single, unified outpouring of support that bombarded her empathic sense and lodged in her throat. Her eyes burned, and she blinked.</p><p>Tears.</p><p>Warm and wet, a tiny droplet trickled down her face to her chin.</p><p>At the tiniest of glances from Fate, Batman cut the broadcast there.</p><p>Raven's breathing grew panicked as her heart raced at the new, powerful sensation, an emotion she hadn't anticipated at all; it squashed her pride like an insect, and she wrenched herself free.</p><p>"You're wrong," she hitched, staggering back and wiping her eyes. "I-I'm not… I-I don't deserve—" Her knees gave out, and she dropped, blinking away tears she could not control as she struggled to decide if she was in the midst of a heart attack, a panic attack, or something else entirely. "<em>I'm</em>…wrong…" she decided.</p><p>"Raven…" Robin approached, followed closely by Jinx and the other Titans, as Superman took a step back to give them room.</p><p>"I'm wrong!" Raven cried; with a fearsome shriek, her soul-self emerged, swallowing her and the area around her—including the Titans—and they were gone.</p><p>All eyes left in the room fell on Fate, refilling his cup.</p><p>Batman surveyed the scene, then asked of Fate, "Go about as well as you'd hoped?"</p><p>"Ah, youth," he observed, more wistful than concerned.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. This Is Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Titans tumbled out of a decidedly less-than-stable teleport. As they gathered themselves and got to their feet, their eyes took in the disturbingly familiar surroundings of the dead dimension; Cyborg, Starfire and Jinx provided light.</p><p>"Where's Raven?" Robin asked no one in particular, turning in place and scanning about with the others.</p><p>"There!" Starfire pointed to a spot in the distance: an outcropping of rock, illuminated by the empath's telltale glow.</p><p>Just then, that glow exploded into tornado of violent energy, whipped, bent and snapped straight into a column reaching high into the sky.</p><p>Their lights seemed to dim as the rest of the area grew brighter, the ground beneath them blanketed by an eerie, white iridescence. Arms, legs, and other strange limbs stretched and reached up, dragging and pushing up their bodies behind them; no longer the half-strung puppets of earlier, this time they moved with purpose in forms more solid and recognizably humanoid.</p><p>Robin shot Cyborg a glance.</p><p>Interacting with a panel on his arm, he gave a shake of his head. "No good. Too much interference."</p><p>Beast Boy yelped and snatched up one foot when a spectral hand emerged too close for comfort.</p><p>On the whole, though, the creatures seemed to ignore them entirely—even Robin. Instead, the shambling mass lumbered toward Raven.</p><p>Robin pointed in that direction. "Titans, go!"</p><p>They did, any momentary paralysis swept away by the familiar phrase and the call to action it inspired. Starfire with Robin and Cyborg and Jinx clinging to the legs of a green pterodactyl, they took to the air.</p><p>They landed in typical formation not far from the pillar of energy that contained the empath.</p><p>Robin, gears turning all the while, took another moment to survey their position: a sloping path, a little wider than a city street, that led up to Raven's perch about to be swarmed by those things, which apparently couldn't emerge any closer. Too much energy, maybe. Or just the opposite? Eye of the storm, less energy here than out there.</p><p>Didn't matter. He shut down his curiosity with practiced precision to focus on what <em>did</em> matter: if they could hold their natural chokepoint, the enemy had to go through them.</p><p>Either they calmed Raven down and got out through Cyborg, or they held on until the League got to them.</p><p>Options weighed, Robin locked in a course of action; with a meeting of eyes and a nod back at the outcropping behind them, he directed Jinx to try to get through to Raven, then turned to face the fight. His bo staff sprang to life, and he took it in both hands.</p><p>Around him, Starfire rose up, hands and eyes a furious and determined green, and Cyborg's hand converted into his sonic cannon. Beast Boy morphed back into a pterodactyl, took the metal man at the shoulders and took off, and they engaged.</p><p>***</p><p>Behind them, Jinx hurried over to the towering column of energy, stopping short when she reached it and craned her neck back at its size.</p><p>She ground her teeth. Besides Raven, she may've been the only magically inclined whatever, but <em>Jesus</em>. What exactly did Bird Boy expect her to do?</p><p>Negate a spell, sure. Unravel an incantation or dispel a barrier, maybe. But this…this was less like magic and more like…more like will made <em>manifest</em>, Raven's entire soul pouring out in the form of pure energy.</p><p>Somehow, she figured a good old-fashioned abracadabra wasn't gonna cut it…</p><p>***</p><p>On the front line, Robin tossed a handful of small explosives, causing several of the creatures to destabilize and sink back into the glowing ground. Spinning, he caught three more with blows from his staff, cutting them off at the knees; they were more tangible now, offered subtle but perceptible resistance when struck, but still not perfectly stable. Anything that cut or blew them apart seemed to be enough—enough to banish them, but his gut told him they would just reform as close as they could and keep coming.</p><p>A hail of green starbolts tore a line in front of him nearby, and he leapt high, reaching out; a hand took him firmly at the wrist, swinging him up before letting him go. At the peak of his height, he tossed another handful of explosives. As he landed, a sonic blast engulfed them, setting off a chain reaction that cleared the immediate area and gave them breathing room to regroup.</p><p>A short distance from the base of the path leading up behind them, every creature they had destroyed congealed again and resumed the approach, joined by others pouring in from all sides. The next push would be larger. The next after that, larger still.</p><p>Robin first, the Titans engaged again.</p><p>***</p><p>"Hey!" Jinx yelled at the column of energy, then, indignant, even louder, "<em>Hey</em>!"</p><p>Seconds ticked by, and she received no response.</p><p>She spared a look back over her shoulder at the tower defense in progress behind her, and swore under her breath—then swore a few more times at her total lack of ideas.</p><p>The black column hummed and crackled in front of her.</p><p>There was no <em>spell</em> for this, not that she'd ever heard of. The only person she knew who might've known anything <em>close</em> was stuck in the middle of it.</p><p>Her heart sank.</p><p>All those stupid compliments, telling her how <em>accomplished</em> she should've felt, how <em>extraordinary</em> she was, it was clearer now than it had ever been how little of that praise she deserved.</p><p>Might as well have had Beast Boy, instead. At least he could roar or something.</p><p>She swore again, this time at her own inadequacy.</p><p>***</p><p>Meanwhile, despite their best efforts, the Titans found themselves slowly but steadily losing ground against the otherworldly tide each time they beat it back and it surged forward again.</p><p>And they were still coming, more and more still spawning in joining the horde. The round-based nature of the fight hadn't lasted long, replaced by a single, endless wave by virtue of sheer numbers: the recently dispatched rematerializing behind the mass and being reincorporated into it just as quickly.</p><p>With no respite and the pressure continuing to build, the Titans found themselves forced back imperceptible inches at a time, but forced back none the less.</p><p>***</p><p>Whether any of the Titans took notice, however, Jinx certainly did. The flashes, the yells, all the sounds of battle growing louder, the action closer every time she dared to look.</p><p>She refocused, drowned out the mounting tension and forced herself to think.</p><p>No portal. That meant Tin Man couldn't pull it off, or Bird Boy would've had him bring in the reinforcements already. They needed Raven. Either she was the reason the portal didn't work, or they were counting on her to teleport them out.</p><p>Jinx groaned out loud to herself in frustration. She had to do <em>something</em>, but getting her powers anywhere <em>near</em> something like that could've…could've…she didn't <em>know</em> what.</p><p>Robin touched down nearby, dropped by Starfire who didn't linger before flying back to rejoin Cyborg and Beast Boy in the fray.</p><p>"Tell me you've got something," Robin said to Jinx.</p><p>Jinx's tightened her fists, head spinning at how fast everything seemed to be happening. She tallied her ideas, or lack thereof, one more time before offering her reply through gritted teeth. "A really <em>bad</em> one…"</p><p>Psyching herself up, she flexed one hand quickly a few times before plunging it into the column of energy.</p><p>She snapped it out again immediately, like a kid who'd touched something stupid; she had thought to only use a little, enough to connect herself to it, to Raven inside it somehow, reach out to her, but…</p><p>She hadn't even gotten to make that connection. The power, the real force hadn't even struck her. Just the <em>specter</em> of it, the shadow, the waterline on the beach—and her with it—had receded so far and swelled up so high in anticipation of the wave about to come crashing down that she had withdrawn out of reflex.</p><p>One hard swallow later, she forced her hand in again, keeping it there this time as she felt herself picked up in the rising swell, felt her guts slide up into her chest.</p><p>But when it finally hit, it…wasn't anything like she'd expected. The moment came, the peak of that wave, then the heart-pounding fall before the crash but…no crash. Instead it…felt like that wave hadn't broke onto her but…<em>into</em> her somehow, the whole thing, <em>pouring</em> itself into her until she could scarcely keep her mind together in the rush.</p><p>Pins and needles everywhere: her skin, under her fingernails, bubbling in her eyes, her whole <em>soul</em> felt like it was about to burst, but it felt so <em>good</em>.</p><p>A giggle escaped her with an involuntary shiver. "What a <em>rush</em>…"</p><p>Her neck cracked when she bent it sharply to one side, then her back and shoulders, and then her arms, wrists, and fingers, the stiff jerking of a marionette learning to move without strings. In the process, her gaze fell upon the battle down below. Her left eye twitched over her distinctive Cheshire grin, which she had only just realized was there, and a bolt of pink energy sparked, jumping from her to each of the misshapen figures she could see.</p><p>In a blink, they were gone—destabilized and disintegrated at the tiniest level—without even waving her hand.</p><p>She shivered again.</p><p>Touching it felt good. Using it felt even <em>better</em>.</p><p>She grunted when she was abruptly shaken at the shoulders by a very irate Robin. "What was that?" he asked sharply, then recoiled when she looked at him.</p><p>Whatever he had seen there on her face, the shock he wore in response, was enough to draw her back to her senses. She offered only a deer-in-headlights look as, up the path, Starfire and Beast Boy helped up a partly short-circuited Cyborg.</p><p>"I'm sorry," she said, all she could offer.</p><p>Robin looked briefly back at his comrades moving toward them, then out at the horde beginning to reform, and then back to Jinx. "Never mind. Can you get through?"</p><p>Without a response, Jinx steeled herself, did her best to clear and focus her mind and, one hand still outstretched in the column of erupting energy, reached in with the other and waded inside.</p><p>Far from the maelstrom she had expected, inside, Jinx found only Raven, hands and knees on the ground, silent in the eye of the storm.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Raven said as she approached, without looking up.</p><p>The little hitch in her voice betrayed that, although she no longer was, she had been crying.</p><p>"It all happened so quickly," Raven went on. "I didn't expect—didn't anticipate how…<em>intense</em>… I didn't mean to bring you all here."</p><p>Jinx took a few more steps, looking from Raven out and around to the walls of energy that enclosed them on all sides. "What is all this?"</p><p>"Guilt," Raven told her.</p><p>Jinx rolled her eyes. "This again? I thought we were <em>over</em>—"</p><p>Raven cut her off with firm certainty. "Not about that," she said as she stood up. "This, all of this energy, what I call my power, it was never <em>mine</em> to begin with. It was <em>his</em>, taken from them." She gestured outside. "I…used it…used <em>them</em>…to defeat him. Now, I'm giving it back. That's all."</p><p>Jinx furrowed her brow in concern. "So what—"</p><p>"I don't know," Raven admitted, facing her companion, imploring her. "But whatever happens, this is right. I-I…" she struggled to find the right words, then settled on, "I can feel it. I've used what was stolen from these people for the noblest thing I will ever use it for. When we came here before, they wanted it back and…they deserve it. Keeping it for myself now, I-I…I can't justify it. It would make me the same as—"</p><p>"Oh, don't even <em>start</em>," Jinx said, throwing up her hands in exasperation.</p><p>***</p><p>While the two argued inside the column of energy, outside, the rest of the Titans waited together in the extended reprieve granted by Jinx's attack. Since then, the creatures had attempted and failed several times to regain shape.</p><p>As Robin and Beast Boy tried however they could to assist Cyborg with what he insisted were only minor repairs, Starfire kept watch. She watched them, the strange, sad creatures, try and fail and try again, only to fail once more, each time struggling on their stilted limbs to rise before those limbs gave way and they collapsed back into the dirt.</p><p>They were her enemy, she knew. But her heart broke for them, and swelled for them in respect for each attempt they made. Whatever this was, whatever their goal, it was everything to them, and they gave everything in pursuit of it. Over and over, they pushed their bodies until they broke, put back together the pieces, and pushed again. And they would continue to do so, she was certain, until the bitter end.</p><p>In her short life, in all of the tales she had heard sung of the great battles and heroes of her people and others they had met in their exploration of space, she saw here, in these creatures that should not have been, one taking place in real time before her eyes. Had she not hardened herself for the battle, she could have wept for them, and at the majesty of the song they wrote.</p><p>In time, the number of those who rose up grew fewer and fewer. And those that did, did not rise as tall. She watched their strength wane, and her zeal began to fade as she knew that there would be no more battle.</p><p>And then, in a wide area, all attempts at regaining form stopped. In the middle of that space, a single creature struggled to its feet. A last attempt, Starfire understood, the combined strength of every creature nearby consolidated for one final effort. One step at a time, stumbling and unsteady, it proceeded forward.</p><p>A thought came to her mind, a story told once by Robin about a similar creature so thoroughly set on its goal that, although it knew it could not succeed, it would not yield.</p><p>Robin stood up, bo staff in hand, and moved to meet the new threat.</p><p>As he passed her, she stopped him, a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>He turned to her, his jaw set in the unbreakable determination she so admired. "I won't lose this fight," he told her.</p><p>"Perhaps," she suggested in response, "fighting is not the answer."</p><p>The words seemed to resonate in Robin, to trigger the intended recollection, and he looked back at the creature moving toward them. Then, he turned to Starfire again, asking without asking, whether she was sure.</p><p>She did not waver.</p><p>Robin seemed to consider for a few moments. Then, at his side, his bo staff retracted.</p><p>With a thankful no, Starfire left him and flew to meet the creature. When she reached it, although it ignored her almost entirely and it took great care to keep her hands from pushing through its body, she made her best effort to assist it.</p><p>Beast Boy and Cyborg watched from nearby Robin.</p><p>"You sure about this, man?" Cyborg asked him.</p><p>Robin only looked on. When it reached him, Starfire on one side, he took the other and helped the creature forward.</p><p>Once they approached the edge of the energy column, he and Starfire stepped back and let it proceed on its own. The creature drew near, raised its right arm, and touched the column. As it passed through and was swallowed as Jinx had been, a wave of light rippled over the ground. Humanoid shapes rose up in every direction, packed densely as far as the eye could see, but they did not move.</p><p>"Now what?" Beast Boy asked, clearly unnerved by the sudden resurgence.</p><p>"We wait," Starfire said softly.</p><p>***</p><p>"Come <em>on</em>," Jinx complained, at her wit's end over how to make her point any clearer. "We've been <em>over</em> this. He was a monster. I get it. But you…are not…your dad. Okay? Say it with me: you—"</p><p>"I am, if I keep what he stole for no other reason than my own selfishness," Raven insisted, calm but adamant in her decision.</p><p>"You don't know what this'll do to you!" Jinx shouted. "It's part of your <em>soul</em>, right? So what happens when ya just…give it all back? Ya could drop dead, for all you know!"</p><p>"It doesn't matter," Raven said. "I have no right. At this point, there's no way to justify—"</p><p>The creature emerged from the wall of energy, cutting their argument short, its every iridescent limb and follicle perfectly formed, although featureless still.</p><p>Jinx wasted no time in rushing to her defense, but Raven held her back with a hand and gently ushered her aside. Unafraid, she stood with nothing between her and it.</p><p>"I'm sorry," she told it. "For what he did to you. This is the best I can do."</p><p>The creature's arm flinched forward, just slightly, although for what purpose she couldn't be sure. But it was only a flinch, stopped short and withdrawn. Instead, it turned its gaze up and past her.</p><p>When she turned to look, she saw images of fire reflected in the wall of energy—fire, fury and rage. She could hear the agonized wails, the tortured screams, the low, rumbling satisfaction of her father; she forced her eyes shut.</p><p>"I'm sorry," she said again. Then, she heard a familiar voice: her voice, from long ago.</p><p>"Get up! Robin, please! Get up!" it pleaded, sobbing.</p><p>The sounds of suffering grew quieter, as though listening.</p><p>"Farewell, dear daughter," she heard her father say.</p><p>Just then, the entire column of energy dissipated, leaving them there on the rocky perch and revealing a sky full of twinkling stars.</p><p>More illusions, Raven decided, reflections of the past. She was hearing the moments leading up to her victory over her father, and being allowed to see behind the curtain.</p><p>It all struck her at once, and she felt it, felt <em>them</em>, all of them, all of their pain, all of their torment pushed aside to seize this thread of hope, this one chance to strike back.</p><p>"You may have raised me, but you were never my father," she heard herself declare. "Fathers are kind! Fathers protect you! Fathers raise you!"</p><p>She remembered those words, the blasts of energy with which she had punctuated every one, the strength, the righteous indignation, the feeling that she could not fail—feelings not only hers, but bolstered by <em>them</em>.</p><p>With each remembered blast, in perfect sync, the lights in the sky pulsed brightly.</p><p>"I was protected by the monks of Azarath. I was raised by my friends. They are my family. This is my home. And <em>you</em> are not welcome here!"</p><p>In the moment of her father's defeat, the illusion shattered, leaving only her, her friends, and those comparatively few beings who her outpouring of power had allowed to reform nearby not to punish her, she saw now, but to put her fears to rest, to give thanks for the small chance at redemption she had given them then.</p><p>And in that, they had succeeded.</p><p>She had stolen nothing, but had been given a gift: a power that, now that it had been taken, could never be given back in the way she had intended. But it could be used properly, or at least not be misused, to prevent others from ever having to meet a fate like those from whom it had been derived.</p><p>In a way, she had come here for much the same reason as she had sought out Fate—to be judged—only to find out that she already had been: not for what she was or where her power had come from, but for who she had chosen to be and how she had chosen to use it.</p><p>She turned again to the beings' representative. But before she could speak, it reached out its right arm and touched its hand to her head.</p><p>In an instant, Raven saw herself, her<em> selves</em>, in visions not unlike the alternate timeline she had shown Jinx: hundreds of them, thousands, more than she could keep count, all living lives that could have been hers—and all made to take pause and bear witness. Her father's defeat, an event so profound it had sent shockwaves reeling through every conceivable reality, had planted the seed in them all, in every version of herself: It could be done.</p><p>She understood then that what she had done was, in truth, much larger, much more significant than even she had ever imagined. She hadn't just denied her father one victory that day; she had denied him <em>every</em> victory.</p><p>She felt the tears again, less urgent this time, less panicked, and made no effort to bite them back or blink them away. Instead, she allowed herself to appreciate them.</p><p>The being pulled its hand away, and the world around Raven returned as the vision it had given her slowly subsided.</p><p>"Thank you," she told it.</p><p>Wordlessly, it bowed and disappeared, followed by all the rest. The light faded, and the Titans found themselves alone on the rocky perch.</p><p>"What…was that?" Beast Boy asked aloud.</p><p>Starfire smiled gently. "Gratitude."</p><p>Jinx approached Raven, reaching out but unsure whether or not to touch. "You, uh…okay?"</p><p>"Yes," Raven said honestly—truly, honestly—sporting a smile of her own and, for the first time in perhaps her entire life, truly content with her place in creation.</p><p>***</p><p>In the otherwise vacant Titan's Tower, the visiting Justice League members mulled about the common room where the Titans themselves had vanished not long before.</p><p>Superman floated by himself in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out. Strange, Fate thought as he passed the time playing chess against himself, how one so practiced in self-control could find such difficulty in concealing his unease. The Man of Steel might have deferred to Fate's judgment on how best to approach the matter at hand, but clearly the approach did not sit well.</p><p>Understandably, perhaps. After all, few were the problems his incredible gifts did not allow him to solve outright, simply by intervening. The subtle art of doing nothing did not come easily to him, especially when it meant allowing someone to struggle whom he might have helped.</p><p>But help came in many forms, as Superman well knew—even if he found some of them more difficult to give than others.</p><p>After some time, Batman stood up from his chair in the kitchen area, where he had been sitting with Zatanna. Chair in hand, he moved opposite Fate and sat down.</p><p>"Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing at the chessboard.</p><p>"Not at all," Fate obliged; the pieces on the board rearranged themselves, resetting.</p><p>Given the white side, Batman moved first. "I had something I was hoping you might help me with."</p><p>Fate took his turn. "Oh?"</p><p>"A private matter."</p><p>Fate glanced at Superman and, when he received no objection although he was certain Superman had overheard them, erected a soundproof bubble around himself and the Dark Knight.</p><p>Batman moved again. "I've been trying to understand something, and I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it."</p><p>"By all means," Fate invited him to continue.</p><p>"I'm sure you're aware that Dick and I haven't always been on the best terms, these last few years especially," Batman went on. "When he left, part of me considered it only natural: a boy his age with his life experiences wanting to strike out on his own. I don't pretend to be the best parent—or even a good one—but at the time, I thought it best to give him his space. Some time to sort himself out. Of course, I never really stopped keeping an eye on him." He made another move.</p><p>Fate reciprocated, both with a move of his own and a slight nod.</p><p>"When he came here, started his own team, of course I did due diligence," Batman said.</p><p>"Of course," Fate agreed.</p><p>"You can guess which one stood out."</p><p>"Yes, I suppose so," Fate said with a small laugh.</p><p>His offensive support now in place, Batman moved a more significant piece behind enemy lines, pressuring his opponent. "Imagine my surprise when I found out that <em>she</em> was the demon Zatanna mentioned in her mission log."</p><p>Fate paused, considering, then moved but offered no reply.</p><p>"She called it an oversight and, at the time, I could accept that explanation," Batman said. "It made enough sense, after all: a headstrong hero with her own prejudice and a case of tunnel vision that made her mistake a cry for help as a diversionary tactic? Wouldn't be the first time, I'm sure."</p><p>Batman's hand hovered over the board momentarily before he lowered it to his side and looked up from the game to Fate. "I read Robin's report on the Trigon incident. We all have. A young girl with extraordinary powers managing to fly under The League's radar is one thing—something that happens more often than we'd like to admit. But someone with <em>that</em> kind of power and <em>that</em> level of demonic heritage slipping <em>into this dimension</em> right under the nose of a Lord of Order? I don't buy it."</p><p>Having leaned forward slightly while they'd played, Fate straightened up at what sounded like an accusation.</p><p>Batman resumed playing, looking over his pieces, hand on his chin, weighing his options. "That only left one possibility: she hadn't. You knew about her as soon as she was brought here. At first, I wondered why you hadn't said anything. I thought about bringing it up—and part of me still wonders if I should have—but…" He moved a piece.</p><p>Fate watched his partner, not the board. And yet, despite it all, even after Trigon's incursion, Batman still had said nothing. Until today, which begged the question: "Why now?"</p><p>"If you're asking, 'Why not then?'" Batman seemed to ponder, then shrugged. "The world had already ended, albeit temporarily. In terms of consequences, we had already dodged the worst bullet in that chamber. As for why now, specifically," he pondered again, "I'd be lying if I said part of it wasn't pure curiosity. What end could justify those means, that kind of gamble?"</p><p>When Batman paused, as if indicating he should, Fate offered a response. He allowed his usual demeanor to fall away and spoke in a voice befitting the gravity and depth of the subject. "You used the word 'gamble,'" he said, allowing himself a moment to think. In his mind, reflected in his eyes behind the helmet where no others could see, were the ruined lives of countless purple-haired young girls, all the tears; the nights spent huddled alone in the dark; the nameless, unvisited graves of those who had sacrificed everything for one peaceful sleep; the years spent sewing destruction and pain by those who found solace in despondent resignation; the ruins of entire dimensions. "You were not wrong. It was a terrible gamble."</p><p>"Then why?" Batman pressed—though whether for the sake of the universe he had risked, or on behalf of the child whose cries he had chosen to ignore, he remained unsure.</p><p>"The Raven we know today," Fate tried to explain, "needed to be something that <em>she</em> created. Any guidance, any interference of any kind before a certain point would only have served to breed uncertainty in her mind as to whether she was a person of her own design—that is, a construct of her own choices—or merely the patchwork of someone else's ideals. A normal child would be allowed to confront these questions in his or her own time, but she would not have that chance. The day would come, well before even her twentieth year, when she would need to know—to <em>know</em>—that <strong>every</strong> decision she had made, <em>she</em> had made, and could continue to make," Fate implored him. "You must understand. I have <em>looked</em>, on the very day she was brought here, and if there had been any other way…"</p><p>"All right," Batman appeared to accept Fate's plea. "But that still doesn't explain—"</p><p>"Trigon is a being of cruelty and chaos—"</p><p>"Was," Batman interjected.</p><p>"No," Fate said pointedly. "The form it took was defeated, yes, but the entity itself remains: scattered to the cosmic winds as it was in the time before Trigon. One day, that negative energy will find form again, take new, horrible shape and return to wreak its havoc across dimensions once more." He took a breath, reorganizing his thoughts. "These things we do now—good works, certainly. We call ourselves heroes, and rightly so. But on that day, we, all of us, will be tested. On that day, we will require a real hero, a true Lord of Order. Without it, all of our might will count for nothing, as it did on the day Trigon set foot in this dimension."</p><p>Seconds ticked by, half a minute, as the two men sat in contemplation of what Fate had described.</p><p>"And this hero," Batman said finally. "What happens when she realizes she spent her whole life trying to escape being used by one prophecy—one person's plan for her—just to be fitted into another? I connected the dots. You know she will."</p><p>Fate's shoulders fell. "I…would hope she does not see it that way," he said sadly. "This is…not a prophecy. And if it is, it is one <em>she</em> will write, with her decisions. I have hopes for her, yes, but the only plan is hers. That is precisely <em>why</em> it was so important that she be allowed to reach this point, if she reached it, on her own."</p><p>Some more time passed before Batman rose from his seat. "Let's hope you're right."</p><p>Fate allowed the bubble around them to dissolve as Batman walked away. He could tell doubt still whispered through his partner's mind, somewhere far in the back, but he heard no such whispers. He heard only the marching drums of a battle yet to come, but one that would come. And in his mind, he saw at the head of that army of heroes new and old, from realms far and wide, a champion he knew would be there to lead them.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Not Canon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This chapter is small and was mostly just for laughs after I finished the story. There is an actual epilogue, which is the next chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cyborg had made it a point to let Robin know that, with the surrounding energy levels back to normal, he could open a portal to get them home whenever they wanted. Robin had acknowledged, but had yet to issue the order. For now, he just stood there, like they all did, seemingly content to do so.</p><p>Near the edge of the outcropping, Raven sat with Jinx alongside her. Jinx hadn't said anything more. No one had. She supposed they were waiting for her to be the one to break the silence, and she supposed she probably would, whenever she figured out what to say. Her mind replayed the last few days, all the strangeness of it, the breakneck crescendo that had found them all back in her father's home dimension surrounded, whether they could see them or not, by the ghosts she would carry inside her until she could find a way to truly bring them peace. After all that, what was the right thing to say?</p><p>A tap on her shoulder, and she looked up. A man she didn't recognize looked down at her in his button-down shirt and blue jeans. He handed her a folded slip of paper. She took it.</p><p>"What—" she made to ask, but he cut her off, politely and with a smile, but as though in a hurry.</p><p>"Hey, I-I'm sorry. I'm really just here as a favor to Ryan, okay?" He pointed one thumb behind them. "I'm, uh— I'm gonna go hit up craft services before they run outta the good muffins. You know the ones. Good to meet you." With a tip-of-the-hat type nod, he made his exit through, it turned out, an ankh-shaped portal halfway down the path.</p><p>Beast Boy looked back and forth a few times, confused. "Was that…?"</p><p>Jinx gave a nod at the slip of paper.</p><p>Raven opened it and read it aloud. "You met me at a very strange time in my life." She considered. That worked, she supposed. As good as anything, anyway.</p><p>"Well…should we…?" Cyborg pointed a thumb at the portal.</p><p>Nothing else to say or do, the group walked down together and passed through.</p><p>Titans' Tower—and thumping, upbeat house music—awaited them on the other side. A man in red and black snagged a mic from the impromptu stage setup in the tower's common area, the Justice League guests still situated around the couch.</p><p>"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Deadpool, and this is the Hermes House Band! Let's hear it for the happy couple! Come on! Don't be shy! You know you know the words!" He laughed, hanging his head some and shaking it in a you-wacky-kids fashion. "Ah… Take me home, indeed."</p><p>"Woah, woah, woah." Beast Boy put on the breaks, whipping out a comic book and leafing quickly through the pages. "Wait a minute. You're not even <em>in </em>this—"</p><p>Deadpool popped up alongside him, ruffling his hair and unceremoniously tossing away the comic book. "Silly green rabbit-child, I'm in whatever em dash I want to be." He leaned in close. "And you can be, too. Don't let anyone tell you different. And the green." He pinched a few fingers together and kissed them. "Definitely your color." He patted Beast Boy on the shoulder before moving on to Raven.</p><p>"Uh…thanks?" Beast Boy managed.</p><p>"Hey!" Deadpool said jovially to Raven, bringing her round with an arm over her shoulders, and then in hushed tones, "Look, I— I'm sorry about the band. We wanted the girl who did <em>This Is Me</em>, but she's just <em>so busy</em>. You know how it goes. Fun fact: this song? I'm actually <em>on </em>it. 'Are you ready to party?' guy, right here." He pointed a thumb at himself before returning to normal volume. "Anyway, congratulations! Love the outfit, by the way. Much better than—"</p><p>Jinx raised a finger in an attempt to get a word in.</p><p>"And you!" Deadpool switched to her in a flash. He looked her up and down with a laugh. "Well you're…you're like a totally different person, aren't you? Good for you." He pinched her cheeks. "I'm so <em>proud</em> of you. Don't you ever let anyone put you in a box."</p><p>"Okay, that's enough," Robin cut in. "I don't know who you are or how you got in here, but—" He made to take the stranger's hands to cuff him, but stumbled when the man touched something on his belt and vanished.</p><p>Deadpool appeared behind him with a slap on the back that knocked him to the floor. "Oh, you. Let's be honest. When have I ever listened to a stoplight? Find me later, though. I've got some costume redesigns. For you girlfriend? You're gonna <em>love</em> 'em. Okay, folks. That's all I've got. Thanks for comin' out. Hope everybody had a good time." He waved and struck a hands-on-hips superhero pose. "And remember: something, something, something…who we want to be. Really makes ya think, doesn't it? Goodnight, everybody!"</p><p>And as the music played on in Titans' Tower, several alternate Ravens found themselves in the presence of a strange man in red and black, who could not die, and who would not leave until they clapped, however unenthusiastically, along to the chorus.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Epilogue: Once More, With Feeling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the weeks since their last trip to the dead dimension—and the Justice League's very public visit—criminals across Jump City had collectively decided, it seemed, to take some time off. Faced with the lightened workload, Raven had decided to do the same. No grand designs involving foreign beaches or backpacking trips, necessarily, but some time to sort through her new perspective on things, to digest, to come to terms, that did sound…pleasant.</p><p>Time to focus on herself—and, of course, on her new relationship, which they had both discussed and decided to pursue. Now that things had died down and Jinx's feelings seemed not to have changed. On the contrary, she seemed rather proud of the role she had played. She'd wasted little time in taking up Robin on his offer for housing, and they had spent a good amount of time together in the weeks since.</p><p>Sometimes they went out, sometimes to a destination of Jinx's choosing and other times one of Raven's, and other times she simply occupied herself nearby while Raven meditated—in her new pose, which continued to assist her in her journey toward self-actualization. On rare occasion, Jinx even joined her.</p><p>On the outside, Raven supposed she looked much the same as she had months earlier. Inside, however…well, she still was who she was. That probably wouldn't change, at least not more than anybody else. But she felt good. Felt a great many things, now.</p><p>Satisfied, for example. Something that, before, she might only have associated with having finished a particularly absorbing book or the like. Now, she felt it toward herself. Toward her personal progress. Even toward her relationship.</p><p>At least, she had.</p><p>Although physical intimacy continued to act like a thorn in her side, a fly in her soup, she did try. Tried to learn, to get a little more proficient each time. Tried to communicate, to find what her partner enjoyed. Tried to be generous, to put her partner first. Those were the right things. Weren't they? Even if she was still learning, that was the way to go about it? She had thought so.</p><p>And then, those stupid <em>words</em>: Can we talk?</p><p>She'd heard all the clichés, of course. Had seen it a hundred times on television and in movies. It had never even made sense to her, the negative reaction people had to what should've been, by all counts, a <em>good</em> thing. Communication was a good thing; talking was a good thing. The opposite—saying nothing, letting an issue simmer in silence until it boiled over or burned—<em>that</em> was bad.</p><p>So, why?</p><p>Try as she might, and did, to rationalize it away, she had made a vow no longer to deny how she felt. And she felt dread. An unmistakable, sinking feeling she could only classify as totally irrational.</p><p>Did it worry her, what might happen?</p><p>She had always been alone.</p><p>Well, mostly.</p><p>But had she really grown so attached so quickly that she actually feared going back to that?</p><p>The fear of going back, or the fear of losing something she had found?</p><p>Or just…of losing? Of failing?</p><p>Or did she find the question itself offensive—can we talk, as though she had done something wrong and was being corrected or called out—and was having a kneejerk reaction because of her own insecurity toward criticism?</p><p>So many things to consider from three <em>stupid</em> little words.</p><p>Jinx hadn't even said it in some grim, foreboding way. She had sounded almost <em>embarrassed</em>. Maybe it didn't even have to do with anything <em>she</em> had or hadn't done. Maybe Jinx had made a mistake, or she had some personal concern she wanted to raise.</p><p>And <em>Robin</em>, dragging Jinx away to discuss…whatever it was—Azar, she couldn't even remember; everything after those three words had just floated in one ear and out the other—before they'd actually gotten the chance to talk.</p><p>Raven sighed; that wasn't fair. Robin couldn't have known. Besides, Jinx knew her schedule. Once they were done, Jinx would find her, and then—</p><p>Jinx, coming down the hall.</p><p>Nervousness, anxiety, but confidence—eagerness?—and just a little concern.</p><p>Great.</p><p>The door to Raven's room slid open, interrupting her admittedly distracted meditation.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <em>Earlier…</em>
</p><p>"Was I interrupting?" Robin asked Jinx as they walked together toward one exit from the common room; Raven left through another, on her way to her own room for her daily meditation.</p><p>Jinx shook her head lightly, not really paying attention. Okay, not <em>exactly</em> according to plan, but that was fine. The plan had been to take Raven somewhere private right away and, well…talk. But Bird Boy wouldn't take too long, right? She'd just find Raven after, and…</p><p>It was fine. No big deal.</p><p>That look, though…</p><p>"You all right?" Robin asked her.</p><p>Jinx zoned back into the moment and found that she had followed him to the room he called his 'Ops Center'. She did her best to laugh it off. "Yeah, sorry. You, uh…wanted to talk about somethin'?"</p><p>Standing in front of a monitor that displayed a map of Jump City, Robin eyed her before taking a seat and seeming to switch gears. He offered her a seat opposite.</p><p>She took it.</p><p>"I wanted to talk about patrol routes," he said, "ask if you had any preferences for when you're both back in the field. Now? I want to know what's wrong."</p><p>Jinx rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slumping back in her chair. "Oh, ple—"</p><p>"Normally, I wouldn't go out of my way to meddle in personal business," Robin went on. "But given the situation—"</p><p>"<em>Situation</em>?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"You're distracted. Anxious."</p><p>Jinx gave an indignant look. "<em>Okay</em>. How would <em>you</em> know—"</p><p>"Your posture's withdrawn, tense. Breathing elevated. Fidgeting in your seat, with your hands. Short answers, like you've got somewhere to be but don't really want to be there or don't really want to be here. You weren't like that at dinner last night. Today, I pulled you away from a conversation with Raven. She gave you a look." He paused.</p><p>Jinx groused, thoroughly deflated. "I dunno who's worse…"</p><p>Robin took a breath, doing his best to relax and be more personable. "Like I said, normally I wouldn't make your business my business, but A) we've already talked about Raven, and B) we aren't just a team. We're a family, and you're a part of that now. I'm not here to interrogate you. I'm here to talk, if you want to. That's all. Or, we can stick to business, if you'd prefer. Your call."</p><p>She almost scoffed. For somebody who said he wasn't there to interrogate her, he sure slipped into it easy enough.</p><p>Still…</p><p>"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to…bite your head off, or whatever. Guess I'm still gettin' used to people just, y'know…bein' nice. I appreciate it. I just…need to talk to her. That's all," Jinx explained. "That's…what I was sayin', when ya showed up and…" She gestured in a way to indicate that was when Robin had pulled her away.</p><p>"Saying what?" he asked.</p><p>"Can we…<em>talk</em>?" Jinx fought the urge to put her hand over her face, fully aware of the connotation behind those three little words.</p><p>His business demeanor cracked, and even Robin winced in his seat.</p><p>"Yeah. Thanks," Jinx said.</p><p>"Sorry. So, go. Talk to her," he offered.</p><p>Jinx leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and ran her hands through her hair with a groan that indicated she really didn't want to.</p><p>"Okay…" Robin read the room. "Can I…ask? Can I help?"</p><p>"No," Jinx said, although it sounded more like a question. "Maybe? I don't know… It's not even anything <em>bad</em>. I just—"</p><p>"We talking a…pet peeve, an argument, or…" Robin threw out some guesses.</p><p>"Personal," Jinx said.</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"And, like, I <em>know</em> she's insecure about that stuff, so I wasn't even gonna say anything," Jinx went on, taken by momentum. "But then I thought, if it were me, I'd want her to tell me, so I went for it— And the last thing I wanna do is make her feel bad, but like… I don't know…" She groaned again, head hung low between her knees as if burying it in sand.</p><p>Robin, meanwhile, sat still in his seat, still wishing he could help but also distinctly uncomfortable, their conversation having wandered into the territory of one of his own personal shortcomings. He decided on honesty, just to be up front about it. He rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "Look, I— It's no secret I'm not that…great…at stuff like this. I don't know how much you can talk about or even how much you want to, but if you're really looking for somebody to bounce ideas off of, get some advice from, whatever—you should talk to Starfire."</p><p>Jinx looked up.</p><p>"Her people are very open with… Well, they're very open. Since we've been together—and, I guess, even before that—she's taught me a lot. N-Not just about this," he stammered to clarify. "About relationships, in general. If anybody can help you, she can." He thought about it. "She's…probably in the gym."</p><p>Jinx gave herself a second to process. Had she really just talked like a normal person, with him? "Thanks," she said, genuinely, and much to her own surprise.</p><p>He gave a nod, gesturing one hand toward the door. "We'll go over routes later. No rush."</p><p>After that, she left and made her way down to what she assumed had once been a small warehouse or something, modified into the tower's extensive gymnasium. Inside, she found Cyborg wrestling a green bear. Her ears found Starfire before her eyes did: a sharp grunt, followed by a growl.</p><p>She found the Tameranean on a marked platform raised eight or so feet higher than the floor. She stood atop it, her eyes strained shut as she struggled against a metal press that pushed down against her from above. A nearby panel displayed the PSI, a number Jinx assumed would've been more at home crushing vehicles into tiny cubes.</p><p>Not really wanting to interrupt, Jinx stood on the sideline, equal parts enjoying the show—had her stomach always had that much definition?—marveling at the display of strength, and appreciating a side of Red that she didn't usually get to see: the warrior side, so totally different from her typical bright and bubbly self. None of that, here. Just…power. Power and grit.</p><p>Starfire's eyes opened their distinctive, furious green; she clenched and bared her teeth, and her growl grew in volume until it rolled into in a yell of absolute determination. From a kneeling position, she rose shakily onto both feet and stood upright. Her jaw snapped shut again—trembling with effort—and, one inch at a time, she pushed up until her arms were fully outstretched above her head.</p><p>Starfire held that position for several seconds before Jinx heard some kind of hydraulic system kick in. The press stayed raised up, and the platform on which Starfire stood eased down until it was even with the floor. Only then did Starfire notice her audience.</p><p>Just like that, the warrior was gone. Walking as opposed to flying, Starfire approached, out of breath and slick with a veneer of sweat but otherwise as cheerful as ever.</p><p>"Friend," she greeted. "You are well?"</p><p>Before Jinx could respond, Starfire furrowed her brow, having picked up on something.</p><p>"You are not well?" she asked.</p><p>Jinx sighed internally. Jeez, was it that obvious? "Just…wonderin' if I could talk to ya, that's all. But if you're busy, I can—"</p><p>"Not at all," Starfire assured her. "Something troubles you?"</p><p>Jinx looked around. She couldn't see anyone, but still. "Maybe, uh…somewhere private?"</p><p>Starfire perked up immediately, clasping one of Jinx's hands. "Oh! Yes! Of course. Please, come with me."</p><p>Just like that, Starfire took flight and took off: out of the gym, through the tower, and up to her room, with Jinx in tow like a banner dragged behind a jet.</p><p>The next Jinx knew, she blinked and found herself on the edge of Starfire's bed. "Uh…"</p><p>"My apologies for my appearance," Starfire said without missing a beat, closing her curtains. "Shall I shower first?"</p><p>"You're fine," Jinx said, struggling a little bit to ignore the mental image.</p><p>"Very well." Starfire flew over and landed on her knees on the bed. "Friend Raven does not often wish to engage in the girl talk, but I find myself most eager. So, what shall we discuss?"</p><p>"To be honest, I…got a referral, myself," Jinx half joked.</p><p>Starfire tilted her head curiously.</p><p>"I, uh… Well, I was talkin' to Bird Boy, and he said I'd be better off talkin' to you, so…"</p><p>Starfire appeared to process the new information, running down the list of topics which might result in Robin recommending her counsel over his. Finally, she connected one with Jinx's unusual demeanor. She smiled; earthlings were so strange. "I see."</p><p>"So, the thing is…" Jinx tried to put it together. "Well, I mean— It's like—"</p><p>"Please," Starfire politely stopped her. "She is inexperienced?"</p><p>Jinx put on a confused look. "Huh?"</p><p>"Friend Raven and yourself," Starfire clarified. "You are encountering some difficulty regarding the expression of physical intimacy, yes? This is due to her inexperience? Or perhaps yours?"</p><p>"N-No!" Jinx stammered, taken a little by surprise. "I mean, yes…maybe… I mean— I don't know…"</p><p>Again, Starfire attempting to ease her friend's burden. "You have an issue regarding personal boundaries, perhaps—"</p><p>"No…" Jinx shook her head.</p><p>"—cleanliness—"</p><p>"No,"</p><p>"—one of you initiates more than the other—"</p><p>"N— Well, yeah, I guess, but it doesn't bother me."</p><p>"—you feel as though one of you is being…how can I say…selfish…when reciprocating—"</p><p>"No!" Jinx practically exclaimed, ready to bite hook, line, and sinker now that someone had put it out there for her. "I mean, that's the thing. I feel like <em>I'm</em> the one bein' selfish."</p><p>"How so?" Starfire asked.</p><p>"Not like I'm <em>tryin'</em> to be," Jinx told her. "I just…I get this feelin', y'know? Like it's mostly for me. Like all the attention's <em>on</em> me, and nothin' we ever get to do is really for <em>her</em>, y'know? Like her gettin' off, it's some kinda afterthought." Jinx realized after what she'd said, how her language might've bothered some. "Sorry."</p><p>The earnest pools that were Starfire's eyes reflected no judgment, only her sincere attention. "You have discussed this with her? These feelings of inequity?"</p><p>"A little, yeah…" Jinx hedged her answer. "I mean, I brought it up, sure, but…I never really pushed it, I guess. She always says she's feedin' off'a me, or whatever, that she's havin' a good time if I'm havin' a good time. And I believe her. I just…the more it happens, the more I can't shake this feelin' like she's holdin' somethin' back, like there's more I could— Like I'm—"</p><p>"Like you are not enough," Starfire suggested.</p><p>"Yeah!" Jinx jumped on it. "And it, I don't know… It makes me worried, that's all… Like there's more she needs to really— Like she wants somethin'…I can't…give her…"</p><p>Some time passed quietly before Starfire's reply.</p><p>"Apologies," she said. "Robin has expressed discomfort with my lack of discretion when discussing our…recreational activities," the words left Starfire's mouth deliberately, as though she had to make sure she used the correct ones, words she had maybe been asked to use, "and so I needed to think how I might relay my advice without offending him. Some time after he and I became intimate, he came to me with a similar concern: that, while he believed I enjoyed myself, he also believed there were other things I wished to do—ways I could enjoy myself more—but that I held myself back for his sake."</p><p>No kidding, Jinx thought, considering the gym earlier. "And what did ya do?" she asked.</p><p>"First, I thanked him for his honesty," Starfire said. "Then, I admitted to him that he was not wrong."</p><p>Jinx's heart sank a bit.</p><p>Starfire's eyes turned down and away, a bit ashamed of herself. "I have great respect for Robin, but I cannot deny the difference in our strength. While I did my best to please him, I also restrained myself for fear of accidentally doing him harm. Even now, I scold myself for not having been honest with him <em>first</em>, for making him worry enough that he had to come to me, instead. Robin has a great deal of pride. I only sought to spare it because of how much I care for him, but in the end, I achieved the opposite effect."</p><p>"So…what happened?" Jinx asked, eager to know.</p><p>"We…had a long discussion, in which I revealed what I have just explained and he worked to understand my point of view, and together we crafted the best solution we could."</p><p>"Which was…?"</p><p>Starfire perked right up. "A word of safety! Well, a word and a gesture." She backtracked a bit. "A signal that indicates to me I should…" she tried to remember the exact words Robin had used, "dial it back."</p><p>Jinx conceded the point; not like she hadn't thought of that before. Hadn't thought <em>much</em> about it, considering what she was dealing with. Not exactly the same as the ropes being too tight, or whatever.</p><p>But if it worked for those two…</p><p>"It really works?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"It works wonderfully!" Starfire testified. "Now, I may do as I please not only for him, but also for myself, and I need not worry whether it is too much."</p><p>Jinx found herself unable to resist a sly smirk. "You, uh…do a lot, do ya?"</p><p>Starfire giggled. "I do not believe Robin would appreciate me going into detail. I can, however, confirm that we have found great success with this method."</p><p>Jinx gave a thoughtful nod, and then stood up. "Well, thanks. For the advice."</p><p>Starfire stood as well and gave her a hug in goodbye. "May it serve you just as well," she chirped.</p><p>With a final goodbye, Jinx took her leave, organizing her thoughts for the real thing.</p><p>***</p><p>Okay. It would be okay. The <em>heck</em> was she so nervous about, anyway? That Raven would be upset? About what? There wasn't even a problem. Not really. Just a…concern, and a suggestion. Something to try. It would be fine. Maybe even fun.</p><p>Hopefully fun.</p><p>That thought in mind, Jinx approached the door, let it slide open, and entered.</p><p>"Hey," she greeted.</p><p>A glance over her shoulder, and Raven allowed her feet to touch the floor. The empath turned around to face her. "Hey."</p><p>Jinx put her hands together in front of her—she <em>did</em> fidget; had to work on that—then at her side with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about earlier. Didn't mean to ditch ya."</p><p>"It's fine. Is everything…okay?" Raven asked.</p><p>Why she bothered, Jinx didn't know. After all, as Raven had pointed out oh-so-many times before: empath. Asking was basically a courtesy.</p><p>Raven touched a hand to her head and shook it lightly. "No. That's wrong. I said I would stop doing that, and I'm sorry. I'm trying, really. It's just a…hard habit to break. A…"</p><p>"Courtesy?" Jinx asked.</p><p>"Almost," Raven admitted, moved to her bed and sat. "So…what did you want to talk about?"</p><p>"Nothin' bad," Jinx assured her. "I'm just…concerned, I guess. That's all."</p><p>"About?"</p><p>At that point, Jinx explained as best she could, borrowing a few of Starfire's words for the sake of clarity, and then put it out in the open that she had gotten advice from the Tameranean on Robin's recommendation. Part of her figured the last bit wouldn't exactly sit well with 'ol reclusive Raven, but whatever; it was done. No sense hiding it now.</p><p>"Okay…" Raven said after, buying time to digest.</p><p>"Sorry for bringin' it up with Red, but <em>you</em> try hidin' somethin' from Bird Boy, and y'know he was gonna mention it to her anyway, so at that point," she shrugged, "didn't really seem like much to lose. Plus, her advice was pretty good, turns out." She waited a few moments, then could avoid asking no longer. "So…"</p><p>Raven offered only a look, as if to ask what, exactly, she was asking.</p><p>"Do you?"</p><p>"Do I what?"</p><p>"Hold yourself…back, or whatever," Jinx clarified.</p><p>Some more time went by without any answer. It ate away at her inside, not knowing, but Jinx fought the urge to rush it. One thing she had learned about conversations with Raven: the woman replied on her own time.</p><p>"I…don't really know," Raven said finally. "I wouldn't really say I hold back, but I won't deny making an effort to resist certain…urges."</p><p>"Because…"</p><p>"Because of what I showed you," Raven told her, like she should've already known.</p><p>Jinx had to think about it for a second. "What? That nightmare? Ya said it yourself: that was just a bad dream. Plus: Hello?" She held out a hand, wiggling her fingers to point out she had her very own body again. "<em>Plus</em>, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't we just go through a whole…<em>thing</em>…about you trustin' yourself?"</p><p>"I know, I know," Raven said, hand to her head and indicating by her tone that she'd had the debate with herself before. "You're right. I just… Things were going well. You seemed to be enjoying yourself. I didn't want to jeopardize that."</p><p>Jinx moved to sit alongside Raven, taking her gently by the wrists. "I <em>do</em> enjoy myself. I just wanna make sure you do, too. That's all. If you like the way things are, then that's fine. I just don't want ya to be afraid of tryin' somethin' new if ya feel like it's somethin' ya want." Letting go of Raven, she leaned back on the bed and shut her eyes with a smirking grin. "I mean, I'm selfish enough on my own. Last thing I need is selfish by proxy."</p><p>Raven donned a tiny smile at the attempt at levity, but she did give pause, as though having snagged on some particular something that forced her to reconsider her position. "Afraid," she pondered out loud, then switched gears and turned to Jinx. "Are you sure? I get the impression it could be…intense."</p><p>At that, Jinx peaked one eye open over a raised eyebrow, then stood up and held out her hand, as if in greeting. "Hi! Jinx. Former bad guy. I fight monsters and am, in fact, not made of glass."</p><p>Raven failed to restrain a laugh, then put on a look of concern. "That's… You know what I am. Half of me. That doesn't…worry you?"</p><p>Jinx put her hands on the empath's shoulders, meeting her eyes. "I trust you."</p><p>Again, Raven took pause like she had snagged on a word that had sent her thoughts wandering.</p><p>"Okay," Raven said after. "So…what word do we use?"</p><p>"<em>First</em> of all," Jinx said, mock-lecturing, "safe words are personal, so if ya want one, ya get your own. This one's mine." She stuck out her tongue. "Second, I was thinkin' somethin' easy, like…I dunno…<em>dolphin</em> or somethin'."</p><p>"That works," Raven agreed, mostly following along in the unfamiliar territory. "I…think I'll save mine for a situation where I might be the one who needs it."</p><p>Jinx shrugged. "Sure. Just remember: that's the line. Unless I say that word—or, in your case I guess, think it loudly—go nuts."</p><p>Raven gave a consenting nod. Then, that look of concern appeared again.</p><p>"Really? 'Cuz it still sounds like—"</p><p>"I understand. I do," Raven assured her. "I just…hope you do."</p><p>"Hey, look. If you're really not comfortable, we don't hafta—"</p><p>"I'm not," Raven admitted. "But that's okay. This is…something I'm afraid of, because I don't know. I don't understand it. And…I would like to. At least, I'd like to try. If you're sure."</p><p>"I'm sure. I just don't want ya to feel like I'm pressurin' ya into anything," Jinx told her.</p><p>Raven shook her head. "You're not."</p><p>"Ya promise?" Jinx asked.</p><p>Raven gave a nod.</p><p>"Good." Jinx shot to her feet, striking a power stance. "Then <em>next</em> time, I want ya to show me everything you've got—or I might show <em>you</em> everything <em>I</em> got. Got it?"</p><p>"Oh, <em>no</em>," Raven replied with a smirk.</p><p>Jinx stopped cold. "Wait, wait, wait. Was that a <em>line</em>?"</p><p>Raven merely cocked an eyebrow, as if she had no idea what Jinx was talking about.</p><p>"It was!" Jinx exclaimed with a laugh. "Oh my <em>god</em>. Caught me off guard there, I'll admit. Didn't know ya could <em>do</em> seductive. But, ya know, if you're gonna…" She pounced, pushing Raven back onto the bed and looming over her. "Ya better be ready to back it up."</p><p>"Careful what you wish for," Raven advised.</p><p>"Or what?" Jinx asked, like a dare.</p><p>Just like that, the lights went out, and Jinx found herself flipped over and their positions reversed. An unseen force held down her wrists while she felt Raven's hands resting on her sternum and the empath's weight on top of her; red eyes peered through the dark.</p><p>"You just might get it."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't own any of these characters or anything related to Teen Titans. Unfortunately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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